THE LIFE AND LABORS 



OF 



Francis Asbury Mood, D.D., 

Founder and first Eegent of South-western University. . 
BY 

C. C. Cody, A.M. Ph.D., 

Professor of Mathematics South-western University. je>*fyC& l &^ 



When anything is done, 
People see not the patient doing of it, 
Nor think how great would be the loss to man 
If it had not been done. As in a building 
Stone rests on stone, and wanting the foundation 
All would be wanting, so in human life 
Each action rests on the foregone event, 
That made it possible, but is forgotten 
And buried in the earth. 

—Longfellow's Michael Angelo, 



\?> 



CHICAGO : 

F. H. Retell, 148 and 150 Madison Street, 

Publisher of Evangelical Literature. 



/ Ufa 






Copyrighted 1886, by 
0. C. Cody. 



CONTENTS. 

INTRODUCTION 5 

Chapter I. — Ancestry and Birth 7 

Chapter IX. — Childhood's Recollections. 21 

Chapter III. — Jack Farley's School 35 

Chapter IV. — Early Religious Impressions and Expe- 
riences , 51 

Chapter V.— The Charleston Boy 67 

Chapter VI — In College 81 

Chapter VII.— Retrospect, Tempations, The Decision 101 

Chapter VIII. — The Circuit Rider. Cypress Circuit. . 117 

Chapter IX. — Barnwell Circuit 138 

Chapter X.— Station Preacher 147 

Chapter XL -Travels in Europe 162 

Chapter XII. — Greenville Station 174 

Chapter XIII. — Presiding Elder, Lincolnton and Or- 
angeburg Districts 179 

Chapter XIV. — Besieged in Charleston 193 

Chapter XV. — Running the Blockade 211 



4 CONTENTS. 

Chapter XVI.— In the West Indies 223 

Chapter XVII.— A Sea Voyage ;— Reconstruction;— 
Usurpation 235 

Chapter XVIII. — In Labors Abundant. The Call to 
Texas 257 

Chapter XIX.— Ruterville,Wesleyan, McKenzie, Soule 267 

Chapter XX. — President, Soule University 276 

Chapter XXL— A Central Institution 286 

Chapter XXII.— South-western University 312 

Chapter XXIII.— Regent 327 

Chapter XXIV.— The Close 342 



INTRODUCTION. 



A narrative of the life of Dr. Mood presents 
to us the career of one, who by his own efforts 
lifted himself into a position of usefulness which 
had its consummation in one great work. This 
work became a grand success, for upon it, all 
the thoughts and energies of his last years were 
concentrated. 

Such a life as this, is worthy of study as it is 
worthy of imitation. 

At the request, coming first from his family, 
and then from the Alumni Association of South- 
western University, I have to present to the 
world, a man greatly beloved for his social vir- 
tues. A man of letters, who had not the leisure 
to gratify a taste in the indulgence of which he 
could have attained to literary renown; a preach- 
er of much grace and many gifts; an educator, 
who originated the idea of a central institution of 
learning for Texas Methodism, which, under his 
wise management and invincible energy in the 
face of difficulties, resulted in the establishment 
of Southwestern University, and placing it upon 
a firm and lasting foundation. 



INTRODUCTION. 



In the portrayal of this life, so much material 
has been placed at my disposal that my work 
has been but little more than that of a compiler. 
My chief dependence in the preparation of the 
book, was an autobiography, addressed to his 
children, and written at intervals during the last 
ten years of his life; I have extracted from these 
reminiscences whatever I found useful to my 
purpose, and the facts and incidents as related 
therein have formed a basis of much of this vol- 
ume. 

I have not ventured to give the autobiogra- 
phy, as a whole, to the public, because parts of 
the work dwelt upon incidents and matters, 
which however interesting to that circle to 
which it was addressed, owing to the endear- 
ments of filial relationship, would at times be 
considered trivial or even dull, by the general 
reader. A father addressing his children, as- 
sembled in the family circle may claim privileges 
in discussing topics, events or persons which 
one, writing for the public eye, can never hope 
to have accorded to him. 

I trust I have been able to depict an agreeable 
image of a man whose life will be a benediction 
to the generation of youth who succeed him, as 
his labors were a blessing to those with whom 
he lived. 



Dr. Mood 



CHAPTER I. 

\ ANCESTRY AND BIRTH. 

In all the emigrations to America from the 
continent of Europe, the German element has 
predominated. A few of these people came with 
the Puritans in the earlier migrations to Massa- 
chusetts Bay; but the real beginning of the great 
Teutonic flood was about the close of the seven- 
teenth century when the German Quakers, flee- 
ing persecution, sought shelter in Pennsylvania 
where soldiering was not required. This colony 
at once became the convergent point for German 
immigration, and of necessity the distributing 
center from which these sturdy foreigners spread 
down the valleys, or moved along the eastern 
slopes of the Appalachian range of mountains. 
Naturally the faces of many of them were turned 
to the more inviting skies of Virginia and the 
Carolinas, where they carried with them Teu- 
tonic thrift and honesty, and where some of the 
curious customs brought from the Ehine sur- 
vived even after the revolution. 



DM. MOOD. 



Peter Mood,* the great-grand-father of Francis 
As bury Mood, was one of this class. He was a 
native of Wurtemburg, Germany, and along 
with three of his brothers, emigrated to Penn- 
sylvania about the middle of the eighteenth 
century. 

When the war with Great Britain broke out, 
the four brothers promptly entered the Conti- 
nental army, and were under General Washing- 
ton in several engagements. On one occasion, 
during the memorable winter of '76, when em- 
ployed by him to do some special service that 
took them near the Delaware river, they were 
discovered by a party of British soldiers, who 
gave them chase. Being hotly pursued, and 
coming to the banks of the river, they, braving 
the icy flood, at once plunged in, and though 
repeatedly fired upon reached the opposite bank 
in safety and escaped. Peter Mood was subse- 
quently captured and thrown into prison, and 
from the severity of the weather, with the hard- 
ships and exposure which he suffered in confine- 
ment, he had hemorrhage of the lungs, and died 
in the British prison. 

Peter Mood, the son of the revolutionary sol- 
dier, and grand-father of the subject of our 
memoir, was born in Oxford, Pennsylvania, in 
May 1766. Upon reaching his majority, he 

*The name Mood was originally Muth, a word which in the 
German language signifies Courageous. 



ANCESTRY AND BIRTH. 



moved to Charleston, South Carolina, where he 
married, and plied his trade — that of silversmith 
and jeweller — with a reputation for great indus- 
try and honesty. He was also known as a man 
of marked decision of character and great 
strength of body, and many incidents are related 
of him, which go to prove that he never hesi- 
tated to use his fists — and always with great ef- 
fectiveness, when he felt that it was necessary 
to do so in the protection of his personal rights 
or property. 

John Mood, third child and oldest son of Peter 
Mood, was the father of Francis Asbury Mo*od. 
He was born in 1792. When a youth, he was, 
one day, passing the ' ' Blue Meeting " on Cum- 
berland Street, as Cumberland Methodist Church 
was then called, and to his great surprise, he 
heard the preacher speaking the English lan- 
guage. Accustomed to attend the Lutheran 
Church, where the service was conducted in 
German, his childish logic made him suppose 
that this was the language, in which all service 
to God was conducted. He entered the church 
and listened with delight and edification to the 
sermon, and then hastened home to tell his 
father of his pleasing discovery. His father 
shared the prejudices of the day, against, at that 
time, the despised Methodists and forbade his 
going to the Blue Meeting — subsequently, how- 



10 DR. MOOD. 



ever, he relented. Young John Mood soon 
after this, professed a change of heart and joined 
the Methodist Church. This was the beginning 
of religion in the family. Through his influ- 
ence, his sisters and brothers, and finally his 
mother and father were led to attend upon the 
ministry of the Methodist preachers, and the 
entire family were brought to Christ and con- 
nected themselves with this branch of the 
church. Thus they became "of one heart and 
one mind in the knowledge and the love of God." 

Peter Mood, when once awakened to the 
knowledge of a saving faith, was "steadfast, 
unmovable, always abounding in the work of 
the Lord." His sturdy Teutonic nature would 
not let him be otherwise, "Blessed be the 
Dutch! " wrote our senior bishop. "In the his- 
tory of our struggling church, how often the 
ark has rested in the lowly habitation of some 
Dutchman with a hard name, and steady as a 
wind-sill." 

Bishop Andrew wrote in "The Reminiscences 
of an Itinerant " in 1853, of a visit to Charleston 
made in 1815:* — "We reached Charleston in 
time for conference, and I found a hearty wel- 
come and a pleasant home with old Brother 
Peter Mood, who kept a silversmith shop some- 
where on King Street. Mine host was an active, 

♦Life and Letters of James O. Andrew, by G. G. Smith, p. 65. 



ANCESTRY AND BIRTH. 11 

warm-hearted, impulsive old Dutchman, and his 
wife an affectionate good woman, one of the 
precious ones of earth. The old people have 
long since passed from the labors of earth, but 
the children still live and the savor of that 
mother's piety is still found among them." 

John Mood followed his father's trade, and on 
reaching his majority he became a partner in 
the business. 

During the second war with Great Britain, as 
a member of the German Fusilleers, he was for 
some months encamped on Sullivan's Island. 
There we find him regularly engaged in leading 
Methodist prayer meetings and class meetings 
in spite of constant ridicule, and annoying inter- 
ruptions from his fellow soldiers. When how- 
ever, these annoyances became intolerable, we 
see him formally petitioning Robert T. Hayne, 
General Commander, and through stringent 
orders issued in response to his request, he se- 
cured for himself and friends uninterrupted 
worship for the future. 

At the close of this war John Mood returned 
to his business with his father. Shortly after 
peace was declared he was married to Miss 
Catherine McFarlane, and feeling it his duty to 
preach, not long after his marriage, he entered 
the local ranks of the Methodist ministry. 

John Mood and Catherine McFarlane had 



12 DR. MOOD. 



been drawn together by a community of tastes 
and opinions. She was a daughter of Alexander 
McFarlane, who was a native of Manchester, 
England. He emigrated to America in early 
manhood, and settled in Charleston, South 
Carolina, where he was married to Catherine 
Reader, in 1774. 

Alexander McFarlane had been a sea captain, 
but after his marriage he settled down to be an 
active enterprising merchant. He was a man of 
good education for the times, and was the first 
local preacher in the Methodist Church in 
Charleston, his name appearing on the records 
as early as 1785. 

One of the letters of this man has been pre- 
served and is now in the possession of the family 
of his grandson. It was written to his father 
and is expostulatory and hortative. The pen- 
manship is beautiful and finished, executed in 
that clear, legible style to which the adepts in 
the use of the old goose quill only have attained. 
It is written on the heavy unruled paper of that 
time, has become yellow, crisp and musty with 
age. These features add much to its interest, 
but the words are worthy of a place in this 
Biography. We reproduce them: 
To Mr. James McFarlane: 

Honored and Dear Father: — I was not a little 
surprised upon the arrival of the ship Rainbow, 



ANCESTRY AND BIRTH. 13 

Captain Holiday, that you had not favored me 
with a line of information respecting your health 
of body and state of mind. And it was not 
lessened when the captain told me, that the 
reason of your not writing was because "I had 
turned such a Methodist you could make nothing 
of me." And is it possible that this -should 
break the bond of natural affection that subsists 
between a parent and a child? But it must 
needs be so, for the Scriptures cannot be broken, 
and Christ hath said that his coming would put 
a father against his son, a mother against her 
daughter, etc. I have infinite reason to thank 
God that I am (in part) a Methodist; and I glory 
in this epithet of reproach and shame. I wish 
I was truly deserving of it, but alas what are 
empty names, suppose I was called a Protestant, 
a Presbyterian, a Quaker, or a Baptist; if I was 
a swearer, a drunkard, a liar, or Sabbath-breaker, 
would these titles of distinction bring me to 
Heaven? No. For without holiness no man 
shall see the Lord! "By holiness" as a great 
man observes "I mean not fasting, or bodily 
austerity, or any other external means of im- 
provement, but the inward temper to which all 
these are subservient, a renewal of the soul in 
the image of God; I mean a complete habit of 
lowliness, meekness, purity, faith, hope, and the 
love of God and man." 



14 DR. MOOD. 



I acknowledge in my former letters to have 
written with great plainness, but I hope my 
openness and simplicity were not construed into 
disrespect and rusticity. If it was, be assured 
I do not wish, — nay, I dare not intentionally 
offend any one, much less a father to whom I 
am so deeply indebted — unless it be where my 
conscience is concerned, and then I must obey 
God rather than man. For Christ's words to 
me, and all that desire to follow him are "If 
any man love father or mother more than me, 
he is not worthy of me, and whosoever is 
ashamed of me before men, of him will I be 
ashamed before my father and his holy angels." 

But passing over this, may I be permitted 
once more to make the important inquiry, "Are 
you prepared to meet your God ? " I do not ask 
if you have turned Methodist, but are you seek- 
ing redemption in the blood of Jesus Christ, who 
gave himself a ransom for all ? Or have you 
found it ? Does the Spirit of God bear witness 
with your spirit that you are born again ? Or 
are you a stranger entirely to it, and cannot 
imagine what I mean ? If you are, I hope God 
in boundless mercy may awaken you out of the 
sleep of sin, to a sight and sense of your very 
imminent danger; for it is an undoubted truth, 
whether you will believe it or not, that unless 
we are converted, unless our hearts are changed 



ANCESTRY AND BIRTH. 15 

by the renovating power of grace, or to speak 
plain English, unless we feel that our sins are 
forgiven, and our souls sanctified, it will be 
easier for a camel to go through the eye of a 
small needle than for us to enter into the King- 
dom of Heaven. 

O, my dear father, your immortal soul is at 
stake, and will most certainly perish forever, 
unless you set your heart to seek the Lord. 
The way to heaven is straight — the gate narrow 
— few find it. O that you may be one of the 
happy few. But a dull wish and a dying prayer 
will not make you one. You must seek the 
Lord now whilst He may be found, and call 
upon Him now whilst He is near. 

Shall I venture to persuade you to lay aside 
all prejudice, and to converse with those poor 
despised people called Methodists. Hear their 
preachers, bat look not for refined elocution or 
graceful speaking, but for solid Truth, and 
weigh what is said in the balances of the Sanctu- 
ary — compare it with the word of God, and you 
will find these are servants of the Most High, 
sent to show unto us the way of salvation; that 
these are the weak things of the world, that God 
chooses to confound the wise, that no flesh 
should glory in his presence. O that you may 
not reject the counsel of God (as the Pharisees 
did of old) against yourself, and count yourself 



16 DB. MOOD. 



unworthy of eternal life, but consider in this 
thy day the things that belong to your peace 
before they are eternally hid from your eyes. 

I know that all that I have written is foolish- 
ness in the eyes of the world, but the wisdom 
of the world is foolishness with God, because 
the world with all its (pretensions to) wisdom 
knows not God. But if we are willing to be- 
come fools (in the eyes of men) that we may be 
truly wise, God will make us wise unto salva- 
tion. He will teach us His wisdom, which has 
been hidden for ages, but is now made manifest 
to his saints. 

Committing you to God and the Lord Jesus 
Christ who is able to save all that come to God 
through him, I remain your affectionate son, 

Alexander McFarlane. 
Charleston, S. C. N. 1794. 

Catherine Mood, with a father who could 
write such a letter, must have been early im- 
pressed with the true stamp of Methodistic 
piety, and, as was the case with each of her 
four sisters, in marrying a Methodist preacher, 
she filled a high sphere for which she was emi- 
nently fitted. As the fruits of this union, six 
children — five sons and one daughter — reached 
maturity. 

Francis Asbury Mood, the youngest son in 
the family, was born in Charleston, South Caro- 



ANCESTRY AND BIRTH. 17 

lina, June 23d, 1830. The other children, in 
the order of their births, beginning with the 
oldest, were Henry M., John A., James R., 
William W. and Catherine Amelia. Four of 
the five sons have been traveling preachers in 
the South Carolina Conference, and the remain- 
ing one, James R. Mood, is a Doctor of Medi- 
cine in the city of Charleston. 

Here we see something of a mother's influence 
and recompense. At her death Bishop Andrew 
wrote to Dr. James Mood of her: "No woman 
has more faithfully sustained life's responsibili- 
ties than did your mother, and God has abund- 
antly crowned her with the honor that cometh 
from God." But who is so fit to speak of a 
mother as her son ? And after she has been in 
heaven nearly twenty-five years, her youngest 
son thus writes of her: "My precious mother 
was of low stature and delicate build and pleas- 
ing countenance. She was like my father, 
quiet, unobtrusive, and with no ambition to 
move in any but the most retired sphere. She 
was possessed of — oh, such a wonderful fund 
of — solid common sense. And what wealth 
of tenderness and affection was there in her 
mother's heart! She lived only for her husband 
and her children. They were possessed of some 
property in 1824, when my father entered the 
itineracy, but in those primitive days of the 



18 DR. MOOD. 



church there were no parsonages, and wives and 
preachers' children were not a popular feature 
to many of the members. They bravely faced 
the difficulties until the property was all ex- 
pended. Then, in 1830, my father located and 
started life a second time, without capital, and 
with a wife and four children to be supported. 
I have heard my mother laughingly depict some 
of the struggles of her itinerant life. Much of 
it was hard indeed, but of it I never heard a 
complaint." 

At the close of this genealogical narration, 
though at the risk of disarranging the chron- 
ological order of the work, let us note as a re- 
markable fact the number of Methodist preach- 
ers comprised in, and descended from the above 
mentioned families, viz: Alexander M,cFar- 
lane; the husbands of his four daughters; 
Thomas L. Wynn, of the South Carolina Con- 
ference; Thomas Mason, of the New York Con- 
ference, who was for a number of years agent 
of the Methodist book concern of that city; 
James O. Andrew, afterwards Bishop; John 
Mood, and the two brothers of the last named, 
C. A. Mood and T. S. Mood. The following 
sons and sons-in-law of the foregoing: Henry 
M. Mood, John A. Mood, Wm. W. Mood, F. 
A. Mood, U. S. Bird, W. W. Wilbur, jr., 
Alexander M. Wynn, J. O. Andrew, jr., Kob't 



AN O EST BY AND BIRTH. 19 

Lorett and J. W. Kush, seventeen in all. 
In the conclusion of this chapter it is gratify- 
ing to know that though Francis Asbury Mood 
claimed no greatness in his forefathers, either 
of fame or wealth, yet for all the generations of 
the past, as far as we are able to trace them, his 
ancestors lived in honorable marriage, were 
happy, pure and contented in their domestic 
relations, were true patriots, serving their 
country in times of need and trial, and died be- 
lievers in the Christian faith, and supporters of 
the doctines and teachings of the Christian re- 
ligion. In democratic America what grander 
heritage could our ancestry leave us than such 
a record of pure honest and patriotic blood, 
through all the past. 



CHAPTER II. 

childhood's recollections. 

Who of us does not sometimes revert to the 
memories of early childhood? We go back in 
thought until thought can go no further, and 
then with strained efforts we attempt to seize 
some misty, ill-defined event, of our most dis- 
tant past, that is already barely perceptible to 
our mental vision. When this memory is re- 
called we cannot throw off the feeling that there 
are things still farther beyond, that might be 
brought back if we could but touch a link in, 
the proper chain. 

I shall extract from the autobiography al- 
ready alluded* to the early recollections of the 
author's childhood. It is a warm-hearted and 
homely remembrance of a simple time, outlined 
with the loving hand of one, who even in the 
zenith of a busy manhood, constantly reverted, 
with feelings of deepest affection and profound- 
est obligation to those who directed his first 
steps and protected his earliest infancy. 

In the recollection of incidents which follow, 
we note many points in the temperament of the 
boy, which give us no little insight into the 



22 DR. MOOD. 



future conduct of the man. The early surround- 
ings, associations and instructions were the 
mighty influences which developed his charac- 
ter. The lively pictures which were indelibly 
impressed upon the childish mind and memory 
disclose a faculty for close observation and de- 
tail. By them we see how impressible he was 
to the quaint, the grotesque and the ludicrous. 
How true an eye he had, and how true a heart 
for the kindly acts and influences that fell in 
the way of his earliest experiences. 

These qualities of the head and heart grew 
with his growth and strengthened with his 
strength, until by this power they drew about 
him on every occasion circles of admiring 
friends seeking instruction and entertainment 
from the experiences of his life. 

The reminiscences of his childhood days were 
written in the summer of 1875, and are as fol- 
lows: 

"Born June 23d, 1830, the year my father 
left the itinerant for the local ranks of the min- 
istry, I have recently amused myself in tracing 
to how early an age we may have distinct recol- 
lections of persons and events. I have been 
surprised to find that in my own history it goes 
back to when I was only two years of age. We 
lived in 1832 on King street, where my father 
had his little store on the west side, near "The 



CEILDHO OB <S BE COLLECTIONS. 23 

Bend," at a house which was known among 
us as the "Big Alley." That I am not mis- 
taken as to the date I know from my recol- 
lections of the blue cockades worn by the Nul- 
lifiers, the ordinance of Nullification having 
passed the convention of South Carolina in 
1832. I recollect also the processions in con- 
nection with that event, one particularly, at 
night, accompanied by great excitement from 
threatened collision of Union men and Nullifiers, 
when General Hayne was called out to address 
the citizens and allay the tumult. Across the 
street from our house was Seyle's hall, where 
the Nullifiers held public meetings. In the 
same building was conducted Mrs. Murden's 
infant school, which I was sometimes allowed 
to visit. 

"One of the Seyle boys, one day, called to 
me to come to him across the street; while tod- 
dling across, a passing dray knocked me down 
and one of the wheels rolled over me. Fortu- 
nately it rolled immediately across my diaphragm, 
which with the softness of the mud into which 
I fell, saved my life. I well recall my astonish- 
ment at the crowd around me, when coming to 
my senses, I opened my eyes. 

"About this time we removed to a brick 
dwelling on George street. Two or three mem- 
ories of striking character to my childish mind 



24 DR. MOOD. 



I will mention. The most exciting one was the 
phenomenon of 'The Falling Stars, ' as the mete- 
oric shower of November 13th, 1833, was called. 
My grandmother took me to the window and 
let me look out upon the wonderful sight. Near 
the same time a total eclipse of the sun oc- 
curred; I remember looking through a smoked 
glass during this phenomenon. 

"In 1834 we had a very severe winter, when 
we had a snow storm, memorable in my history 
because of an immense snow-ball rolled up by 
my larger brothers, and which I followed in 
admiring wonder, delighted with the continued 
accumulation of each revolution. 

"Our next door neighbor was given to drunk- 
enness. I well recall my gloom and horror, when 
on going over to play with his son, I, for the 
first time saw the father in his cups calling for 
food, and raving at his wife and children. 

"I suppose that it was in 1835 or 1836 that 
we removed to the dwelling on the southeast 
corner of George and Coming streets. Delight- 
ed with the excitement of removal, my sister 
and myself went to the new dwelling, which 
had been occupied by a physician. Running 
over the house, we at length reached the attic, 
when suddenly we came upon a skull and human 
bones. We fled in childish terror from such a 
sight. 



CHILDHOOD'S RECOLLECTIONS. 25 

"This dwelling had a large yard for a city 
home. Here I spent years, and recall pleasant 
memories. There was living with us here — 
indeed, I recall her presence at the brick house — 
a *Miss Silena Smith. She had been for years 
the house-keeper of the Methodist parsonage 
during the dispensation of the bachelor Bishop 
Asbury, and the bachelor preachers. Now that 
married men were finding toleration in the con- 
ference, and were being stationed in the city, 
her avocation was gone. She was very old and 
feeble, so my mother gave her a home with the 
family and she remained with us until her death. 
Several startling incidents are connected with 
my childhood and this pious old christian. 

"Our next door neighbor, a good Methodist, 
Brother Keeves, was a worker in wood. He 
once gave me a number of neatly turned dishes 
of a brown wood, which to me greatly resembled 
a cake that my mother often had for tea. Care- 
fully arranging them on a dish on the tea table, 
in the dusk of the evening, I hid behind the 
door to see who first would be deceived by the 
wooden cakes. I do not think I had any special 
designs against Miss Silena, but she first entered 
the room, took one from the dish and hurt her 
toothless gums. The snicker from behind the 
door betrayed the author of the trick, and com- 

*See "Life and Letters of James Osgood Andrew," page 70, 



BR. MOOD. 



plaint was made. My dear, blessed mother led 
me to her chamber, and by a combination of 
prayer, solemn exhortation and a leather slip- 
per, gave me a lesson in reverence for age, 
which remains to this day. 

"On Sunday nights the family usually went 
to church, leaving my sister and myself, the 
two youngest, in charge of Miss Silena. On 
one occasion we had been put to bed when I 
was startled with a cry from her that 'she was 
burning up.' I sprang to the stairway, and as 
I turned the landing saw her at the foot, with 
one hand on the ballustrade, a pillar of fire. I 
sprang down and tore the burning clothing from 
her. Her life was saved, but she long suffered 
from dreadful burns on her arms, and neck and 
face, as I did from blistered hands. 

"Young as I was, her piety impressed me 
deeply. Too aged and infirm to sew, or read 
ordinary print, she spent her time in reading 
the Scriptures and in prayer. Oftimes I have 
stood reverently by her room door, and listened 
to her pleadings for the church, for sinners and 
for the world. 

"Marm Phillis was the complement of Miss 
Silena Smith at that bachelor's parsonage, 
among the tombs of Bethel Cemetery. Marm 
Phillis was the cook. She held the position 
long after the bachelor dispensation had passed 



GBILDHOO&S RECOLLECTIONS. %7 

away. Becoming too old and infirm to work, 
like her pious co-laborer, she fell to the benevo- 
lent care of my dear mother. One of my life 
lessons occurred in connection with 'Old Marm 
Phillis' which I will narrate. 

"For years, at every meal, as soon as my 
father had asked the blessing, the plates and 
cups were handed to my mother, who arranged 
the meal to be sent to Phillis. The messenger 
was Sarah, a tidy intelligent mulatto — a family 
slave by inheritance. It was gall and bitterness 
to Sarah to be compelled to wait on this old 
pauper negress, in comparison with whom she 
felt so much superior. Phillis was old, ungainly 
and exacting, occupying a very humble home 
on St. Phillips street. On one occasion, by 
some over-sight, old Phillis's dinner was sent to 
her minus the meat. Uncovering her meal, she 
broke out into upraidings against Sarah for the 
omission, and utterly refused to touch the din- 
ner, but sent it back with this message to my 
mother: 'Tell Miss Kitty ef she can't sen' me 
meat wid de dinna, she needn't sen' me any at 
all.' Sarah returned indignant, but rejoicing. 
Indignant at the ingratitude of the old woman, 
and rejoicing in the expectation that this would 
end her disagreeable tramps around the corner 
to old Phillis's. Putting down the dinner on 
her return, she delivered the old woman's mes- 



28 DR. MOOD. 



sage and exclaimed, indignantly: 'Miss Kitty, 
I never would send another mouthful to that 
impudent, ungrateful old nigger.' The children 
shared Sarah's indignation, and all of us joined 
in protest against mother ever again trying to 
minister to old Phillis. Then followed the les- 
son. In reply, she said in substance: 'My 
children, I am sorry to see that you understand 
so imperfectly the law of benevolence. If you 
are benevolent only to the grateful, precious 
little benevolence will you dispense while you 
live. As God sends his rain on the just and on 
the unjust, we are to relieve the wants of our 
suffering fellow creatures whether they appre- 
ciate our efforts or not. Besides this, in the 
gratitude of those we assist, we have a reward. 
Are you willing to do good only to receive an 
earthly reward ? We are to do good without 
reference to character here, and our Father that 
seeth, in secret, will reward us openly in the 
coming da} r ." 

"That was a word in season. I have never 
felt tempted to discouragement at the indif- 
ference, criticism or seeming ingratitude of 
those I have been called to serve, that Phillis, 
Sarah, and the scene at the dinner table, have 
not recurred to awaken me to renewed diligence. 

' 'My first intimate friend was George Wash- 
ington Whitfield. George's mother was dead 



CHILDHOOD' 8 BECOLLECTIONS. 29 

and he lived with his grandmother. We became 
devotedly attached to each other, and followed 
each others ways, employments and amuse- 
ments. My most constant companion, however, 
was sister Amelia, two years younger than my- 
self. Most of my sports took a feminine turn 
to accommodate her, she having no sister's com- 
panionship. I spent all my money on her dolls 
and doll-houses, and it was my great pride that 
that she had the most complete doll-house in the 
neighborhood. 

"And now came a great event. I was sent 
to school after my mother had taught me to 
read. My teacher was a Mrs. Bell. She lived 
a few doors from us and taught the school in 
her own dwelling. It was here that I met my 
first sweetheart. She was quite a young lady 
in size, was the most advanced pupil and was 
also taking lessons in ornamental needlework. 
I thought her a perfect beauty, a word, a look, 
or a smile from her would through me into 
raptures of delight. No service was too menial 
for me to do for her, and I would go to any 
trouble to please her. 

"I had the reputation of being incorrigibly 
mischievous. I was scolded for it at school 
and reminded of it at home. I had an insatiate 
fondness for tools, machinery, or anything of 
that kind, and I was all the time spoiling some- 



30 BR. MOOD. 



thing considered valuable in my efforts to manu- 
facture a cart, or build a house, or construct a 
machine. My brothers shared with me this 
mechanical turn, particularly Henry and James. 
My parents endeavored to give healthy direc- 
tion to this constructive talent. Henry had 
been sent to Cokesbury to learn the gunsmith's 
trade, and was attending school there, paying 
his way partly by his trade, in that village. 

"I well recollect our enthusiasm over a mini- 
ature fire engine we had seen in the city, and 
which was to be raffled at fifty cents a chance. 
Father, however, took occasion to tell us of the 
evil involved in raffles, and told brother James, 
that if he would try he could make a better 
engine himself. To us this appeared incredible. 
But he set to work under my father's direction, 
studying the construction in a book my father 
furnished him, and also by the examination of 
a city engine which was kept near our home. 
How eagerly did we younger ones watch his 
progress, step by step. How much pains our 
dear father took in aiding and directing. The 
air chamber, the pumps, the pistons were all at 
last finished; wheels were procured and finally 
we brought it home from father's shop for the 
first trial. Delightful sensation! We worked 
the handles a few strokes, the water rushed 
from the nozzle of the hose. We pumped 



CEILDEO OU 8 RMC0LLECTI0N8. 31 

harder, as we had often seen the firemen do, 
the jet rose still higher, until at last, with glad 
hurrahs, we saw our engine throw water in a 
steady stream on the roof, and even over the 
top of the chimney. This engine was for years 
an untiring source of amusement. 

"Under the same wise principle of parental 
government my mother, on one occasion, had 
boards, nails and tools furnished me, in answer 
to a longing wish to build a real house for sis- 
ter's dolls. I hammered and sawed away at it 
for days, and finally completed a very creditable 
house. It was about four feet wide and six or 
seven feet long. It had a door and a window 
and was creditably floored. In it we could actu- 
ally go, and shut the door and look out of the 
window, so this house was almost as much a 
means of childish happiness as was the fire 
engine. Thus we had little occasion or desire 
to roam over the city. We were on no pretext 
whatever allowed to play on the streets, amuse- 
ment was furnished us at home, and we were 
glad to stay there. Having so much that was 
attractive about our home, we had many visitors, 
but if any boy was heard, or known to use pro- 
fane or wicked language, my mother promptly 
led him to the gate and required him to leave. 
As she did this without fear or favor, we were 
taught a lesson of decision and courage in right 



32 DB. MOOD. 



doing that was invaluable, besides early giving 
to us a hearty dislike for the companionship of 
those who used profane or wicked words. 

"Another important change came to me about 
this time. Mrs. Bell called me to her on one 
occasion and told me that she could teach me 
no longer, as I was too mischievous. I listened 
to this charge in great astonishment, for I was 
sincerely unconscious of what she meant. She 
furthermore told me that she intended to advise 
my parents to send me to a school-master who 
could manage me. " 

And thus the chapter of his first school-days 
was rather abruptly closed. His mischievous 
propensities had gotten him into serious trouble, 
because his teacher did not understand him. 
The mischief which was superinduced by the 
mental workings of the boy mechinician, by a 
longing desire to experiment upon persons or 
things, just to see what would be the effect un- 
der certain conditions — she thought to be the 
unprincipled recklessness of the "bad boy," all 
of whose misdeeds are executed with malice 
afore thought. 

-When he was about five years of age he was 
afflicted with erysipelas of the face. This gave 
him great pain and resulted in an unnatural en- 
largement of the nose, and, very naturally 
superinduced an irritability of temper, to which 



CHILDHOODS RECOLLECTIONS. 33 

he gave vent by crying. He was conscientious 
and upright from early childhood, and was hap- 
py and playful, so long as matters suited him, 
but just as soon as anything went contrary to 
his feelings, it was sure to excite loud bawling. 



CHAPTER III. 

JACK FAKLEY'S SCHOOL. 

At the opening of the next session after his 
informal severance from Mrs. Bell's instruction, 
we find our young friend, in company with two 
of his elder brothers, "with his satchel, and 
shining morning face, creeping, like snail, un- 
willingly to school." 

He was on his way to a master who managed 
the boys. One of that kind of whom Carlyle 
says, ' 'he knew syntax enough, and of the hu- 
man soul thus much, that it had a faculty called 
memory, and could be acted upon, through the 
muscular integuments by the appliance of birch 
rods." 

But birch rods were scarce in the city, so Mr. 
Farley provided himself with a strap. It was 
an inch wide, a quarter of an inch thick — if 
leather is ever that thick — and about eighteen 
inches long. From constant use it had become 
thoroughly flexible, and with how much force 
and effect he could apply this instrument of 
torture was often discussed and thoroughly un- 
derstood by the Charleston boys of that day — 



36 BR. MOOD. 



many of them being able to speak with feeling 
intelligence upon the subject. 

Mr. Farley was a short stout man of great 
strength. He was of Irish parentage, and in 
his infancy being thrown upon public charity, 
he was received and brought up in the Charles- 
ton Orphan House, an institution of which the 
Charlestonians are justly proud, and upon which 
they spend large sums of money annually. 
From this establishment, under certain provi- 
sions made by the city, he was sent to the South 
Carolina College at Columbia. There, having 
taken a regular course, he graduated with dis- 
tinction. He was educated under the Presidency 
of Dr. Cooper, and like most of the graduates 
from that institution at that day, he imbibed 
the skeptical views of that eminent man. 

Thus we see the teacher, placed by public 
functionaries in charge of an important school; 
a strong man who looked with contempt upon 
weakness; a man who had known but little of a 
mother's love and tenderness; the gentler ele- 
ments of whose nature had never been developed 
by the softening influences and associations of 
home; and finally, by reason of the unfortunate 
circumstances of his higher education, having 
the foundation of his faith in God and religion, 
effectually demolished. Yet he was esteemed 
worthy to train the ignorance and weakness of 



JACK FARLEY' 8 SCHOOL. 37 

boyhood, into all virtue and power and wisdom 
of maturer years. > 

His system was of such a character that 
neither the man nor his methods were ever for- 
gotten by his young pupil. It does not often 
fail that our strongest recollections of early boy- 
hood goes back to the- school master, but in this 
instance, to fully appreciate how clearly he re- 
called every incident connected with ' ' the dis- 
mal days of Jack Farley's school room" one 
should have heard him tell of the pedagogue, 
under the strokes of whose sceptre he first suf- 
fered. 

The school-house was composed of two build- 
ings rolled close together. The jointiDg had 
been poorly done, so that when it rained the 
roof leaked badly. His desk was near this part 
of the room, and over and near the openings in 
the floor which had rotted away from the fre- 
quent wettings. The ceiling had been canvassed 
and papered years before, but was now dis- 
colored with age and mildew and gaped in ugly 
openings overhead, around which dangled the 
ragged cloth and paper. 

Mr. Farley sat at one end of the room, in an 
arm chair, on a throne about eight inches high. 
He was an inveterate chewer of tobacco, and 
constantly expelled from his mouth, in expertly 
directed streams, the accumulated amber. The 



DR. MOOD. 



surroundings of his throne, therefore, were very 
much akin to the interior of a hog-pen, — in- 
describably nasty. 

School opened at eight o'clock. When the 
scholars arrived at the school-house, they were 
allowed no privileges of a play ground, but each 
one was required to enter at once, deposit his 
books in the ante-room, and take his seat at his 
assigned desk. Studying in school, or at the 
school-house was a crime that could only be ex- 
piated for by a flogging. 

It is the law of a child's nature to be active; 
then to expect a company of boys, without the 
presence of their preceptor, to gravely sit in 
silence for perhaps an hour, and do nothing, — 
was like expecting a miracle to be worked. 
This regulation was, therefore, looked on by the 
boys as a cunningly devised and wicked scheme 
to get them into trouble, for they recognized 
the living truth in the nursery hymn which 
says: 

"And Satan finds some mischief still 
For idle hands to do. " 

Very frequently, they got into some mischief, 
and, consequently the opening exercise was a 
general and promiscuous castigation. The in- 
fatuation that took them to the school-room, be- 
fore the time of opening, simply to brave the 



JACK FARLEY'S SCHOOL. 



dangers of a tremendous thrashing, we leave for 
psychologists to explain. 

At the appointed moment Mr. Farley entered 
the school-room amid that profound silence 
which is superinduced by the palsy of fear. He 
turned to his right, unlocked and lifted the cover 
of a large desk, and drew forth a dark serpentine 
looking thing, coiled it about his finger, or laid 
it across his lap. This ominous thing is the 
strap — his sceptre of authority, and general as- 
sistant. As an instrument of torture it was 
used with great dexterity and power upon 
hands, shoulders, legs or seat, according to the 
magnitude of the crime or the humor of the tor- 
mentor. 

When, as occasion demanded, the opening 
corrective exercise had been vigorously admin- 
istered, before the groans, the tears, the sobs, 
the wringing of hands, the rubbing of legs, and 
the blowing of fingers and noses had subsided, 
in tones of awful authority that dreadful word 
rung out — spelling! 

Obedient to this call, the entire school filed 
before him, and stood in their respective posi- 
tions. Touching this ordeal, we will let him 
through his autobiography speak for himself: 

" Carpenter's Spelling Book was used. How 
often have I seen a word pass down from boy to 
boy — each one as he missed receiving his merited 



40 DM. MOOD. 



stripes. "From rank to rank the vollied 
thunder flew." Perhaps, far down the line, 
some fortunate fellow would make the happy 
guess and rise head, amid the groans and 
anguish of the crowd below. I recall one awful 
time in my history in connection with this spell- 
ing. I had been remorselessly thrashed for 
several days, for missing; when to my joy, 
among some old books and pamphlets, at home, 
I found a Carpenter's Spelling Book. Tearing 
out the leaf that contained my lesson, I put it 
in my pocket, as a certain talisman against Mr. 
Farley's strap. When called to the class, it was 
not long before a hard word came rolling down 
toward me, and blows and cries were coming in 
a torrent with it. I stealthily drew out my 
talisman, saw how the word was spelled, and 
triumphantly passed third to head. My un- 
usual success, I doubt not, awakened suspicion, 
and drew to me the attention of my Argus. 
Another word went rolling down below me. 
The boys above me were twitching in nervous 
apprehension. I drew out my talisman. I 
glanced at it, partly turning my body to conceal 
the miserable cheat I was enacting. Quick re- 
tribution followed. "What is that you are 
hiding there Asbury Mood ? " roared my lynx- 
eyed tormentor. ' ' Nothing Sir, " I tremblingly 
said, adding a lie to my other deceit. He called 



JA CK FARLEY' 8 8CE0 OL. 41 

me forth before the class, for he understood the 
whole case. He made me draw forth the fatal 
page — my adored talisman; he held it up, and 
its owner, to public scorn, and after heaping 
contumely upon me for the base deceit I had so 
poorly practiced, and completely stripping me 
of my peacock's feathers, in which I had strutted 
for a brief five minutes, he gave me a flogging, 
the memory of which will ever make my flesh 
creep. I was striped black and blue from neck 
to heels, and besides all this, was sent to lan- 
guish in disgrace at the foot of the class. I 
need not say that this experiment upon " a royal 
road to learning," completely disgusted me. It 
always seemed a broad road leading to destruc- 
tion. 

He tells of the disadvantages under which the 
fine arts were cultivated in Mr. Farley's school. 

"It was the third or fourth day after entering 
the school^— in the afternoon — I had finished the 
u sum" set for me on the slate, and I went up 
to show it to Mr. Farley. Whenever more than 
one was ready at the same time, he fell into line 
and awaited his turn. About ten boys were 
ahead of me. About the time of which I am 
speaking, there was great excitement about the 
Indian War in Florida, a company from the 
city, having, a few days before, started for the 
seat of hostilities. Tired of awaiting my turn, 



42 BR. MOOD. 



I carefully reversed my slate, and amused my- 
self by drawing a picture of white men and 
Indians fighting. The picture was hardly finished 
when my turn came and I passed up my slate 
for examination. The sum was correctly done. 
Mr. Farley turned the slate over to set another 
sum. Horrors ! What is it that so transfixes 
him ? It is a picture, a picture drawn in cold 
blood in school time. He thundered at me, 
"Who did that?" I, all unconscious of any 
crime, yet conscious that great danger was im- 
pending, slowly answered, "I drew it, Sir." 
He laid down the slate, took up the strap, slowly 
reached out his hand, took me by the front of 
my jacket, and gave me about ten blows. I 
writhed in mortal agony, both at the pain of 
body and sense of mortification, for this was my 
first whipping at school. 

" The first locomotives were at this time being 
run on the South Carolina Eailroad, and all of 
the boy's heads were full of the new enterprise. 
Two of the boys who sat near me — Osgood 
Chrietzberg and James Copes, were especially 
interested in the matter. Chrietzberg had drawn 
a locomotive and train of cars and was explain- 
ing the picture to Copes. Absorbed in the pic- 
ture they did not discover the stealthy approach 
of Mr. Farley, who, holding his strap over his 
shoulder, had slipped up behind the guilty pair. 



JACK FARLEY'S SCHOOL. 43 

Said Chrietzberg with enthusiasm. ' ' This crank 
works so." Moving his arms like the lever of 
the engine. " And this strap works so" thund- 
ered Mr. Farley as he rained his strokes thick 
and fast upon the backs and shoulders of the 
unhappy engineers, who commenced instanter, 
a series of wonderful evolutions that would have 
done credit to any gymnast. Drawing did not 
develop under his regime, circumstances were 
unfavorable to it." 

George Whitfield, the young and early friend 
of Francis Asbury Mood, with whom he had 
been so intimate while under the instruction of 
Mrs. Bell, feeling it to be a reproach to longer 
attend a girls' school, and being desirous of the 
congenial associations of Asbury and other boys 
of his age, in spite of kindly warnings, deter- 
mined to brave the dangers of Jack Farley's 
fury. George was a guileless child, and having 
been solely under the care of an indulgent grand- 
mother, he perhaps had never been whipped in 
his life, and therefore he could not appreciate 
the warnings of his friends. 

On the second day after entering he missed 
his "spelling." The inevitable must come 
Mr. Farley sternly ordered him to hold out his 
hand. He did so, down came the awful strap 
almost cutting into the tender flesh. Poor 
George ! He looked at his hand in speechless 



U DR. MO Ob. 



agony and then in speechless terror looked at 
Mr. Farley, who was thundering in terrific tones 
' ' Hold out your hand sir ! " He held it out 
again. Down came the strap with even more 
force than before. George could endure no 
more, but wringing his hands and bowing un- 
easily, he cried out at the top of his voice: "Oh 
Mr. Farley, Sir ! " 

"I beg your pardon, I grant you grace 
I hope the cat may scratch your face. " 

This tender and poetic appeal, seemed to 
arouse all the lion in Mr. Farley's nature. He 
could not see that the boy was so terrified that 
he did not know what he was saying, but took 
his words literally as a personal insult, and he 
seized George by the collar of his jacket and 
gave him a tremendous trouncing for his sup- 
posed temerity. His grand-mother was never 
able to get him back to Mr. Farley's school. 
He quietly resumed his place in the girls 5 
school, preferring to bear the opprobrium con- 
nected with such a position, in his boyish 
thoughts, rather than suffer, for a season, the 
pains and punishments, into which his ambition, 
and friendship had tempted him. 

The two older brothers, James and William 
Mood, having become sufficiently advanced, 
were taken from Mr. Farley and sent to the High 
School. This was a classical High School, of 



JACK FABLET'S SCHOOL. 45 

which Henry M. Bruns, L. L. D. , was princi- 
pal, and it was intended to be tributary to 
Charleston College. With the removal of these 
two brothers, along with a number of the larger 
boys, Mr. Farley's severity seemed to increase. 
He began to see that corporal punishment, alone, 
would not bring about the best results. So he 
commenced to study and experiment upon new 
methods of punishment, looking on punishment 
as the only key to an education. He concluded 
to introduce shame into his discipline. First he 
tried tall dunce oaps of paper. Soon he had a 
small army thus arrayed. The boys enjoyed 
the change and looked with no feelings of shame 
upon that which was universal. He then found 
it necessary to modify this by combining shame 
with bodily punishment; so he put piles of books 
on the heads of the culprits, and made them 
pace the floor, whipping furiously any boy who 
was so unsteady as to drop any of the books. 

At last his genius culminated into an alto- 
gether novel form of punishment. He began to 
make the boys who had offended get down on 
their all-fours and pace up and down the room. 
The advantage he gained by requiring them to 
assume this position was two-fold: First, there 
was the shame in being made to typify the don- 
key, a creature celebrated especially for his 
stupidity; and Mr. Farley constantly reminded 



46 DR. MOOD. 



the boys of their resemblance to this long-eared 
beast. In the second place, the attitude assumed 
drew the pantaloons tight over the breech giving 
invitation, amplitude and scope for the play of 
the strap. He frequently had a herd of these 
quadrupeds on parade at once, and would de- 
light to walk among them, and touch the lag- 
gards up with a blow that would send them 
bellowing and galloping to the farther end of 
the room. 

Mr. Farley reported Asbury to his father, as 
' ' doing well. " This was told to Asbury, who 
accepted the statement with gratitude, conclud- 
ing that the miseries he endured were only the 
necessary agonies through which every school 
boy had to pass, as being the ' ' undeveloped ini- 
tiatives of good things to come. " He, however 
was thoroughly miserable, as he was whipped 
for bad lessons, for talking or for mischief of 
one kind or another every day he passed in the 
school-room. This, however, was the common 
experience of his school-mates, for whatever 
were the defects of Mr. Farley's theories of dis- 
cipline, he was rigidly honest and impartial in 
its administration. 

Our young friend had been spared, as yet the 
miseries of going on all-fours; but he felt that 
he was gravitating towards it, as he had been 
seated cross-legged on the floor as a sort of cen- 



J A GK FARLEY'S SCHO OL. 47 

ter-point around which a lot of the other boys 
were macle to crawl. 

A.t his home the children were not allowed 
to "tell tales out of school." His parents ac- 
cepted Mr. Farley's report that he was doing 
well, and they were altogether ignorant of these 
cruel travesties on discipline. 

On one occasion, when some of his school- 
mates were spending a Saturday with him, they 
began discussing the case of one of their fellow 
sufferers, who during the week before had met 
a conspicuous visitation of " all-fours" with the 
strap accompaniment. His mother heard the 
conversation. She listened in surprise. She 
questioned them. She saw honesty and sincerity 
in their faces. The thing was true. Her 
motherly heart was aroused and she lost her 
usual caution. Looking full into the face of her 
son she exclaimed indignantly: "Mark ye, I do 
not send you to school to be taught such antics. 
The day Mr. Farley orders you on the floor do 
you come home. " This was enough. He felt 
that his freedom was already in his grasp. He 
longed for the supreme moment to come, when 
under the banner of his mother's protection, he 
would defy Jack Farley's authority, and proudly 
march home. His minute recollection of the in- 
cident will show how deeply it was impressed 
upon his memory as well as how impressible he 



DR MOOD. 



was to particulars. He says of it — ' ' On Monday 
morning I was early at school, I began talking 
to Jesse Bowles a tall boy several years my 
senior, who sat alongside the main entrance. I 
said to him, "If Mr. Farley ever pats me to 
crawl on the floor I am going home; my ma has 
told me to do so." The boy replied: "You 
won't dare to do it, Old Jack would catch you 
and blister you." 

"You'll see whether I will or not." 
J' I, for the first time was anxious to be pun- 
ished; nor was I slow in making the opportunity. 
About ten o'clock in the day, I missed outright. 
The lesson was on Oceanica, where, in Wor- 
cester's Geography there is a picture of an 
ourang outang in a bread fruit tree. Mr. Far- 
ley seized me, and after giving me a terrible 
castigation, threw me on the floor and told me 
to sit there. "The whipping had made me as 
limber as a wet rag, all my courage had fled, 
and bruised and sobbing there I sat. As the 
class was dismissed, my tall friend passed, and 
stooping hissed sneeringly in my ear: "I 
thought you were going home. " I roused as 
from a dream. The coming of another class 
favored my purpose. I sprang up and darted 
for the door. With the singular conduct that 
marks many boys, for Jesse Bowles was my 
friend, he saw my movement, and as I reached 



JACK FARLEY'S SCHOOL. 49 

the door-sill, he stretched out his long legs over 
which I stumbled; down the steps I went, head- 
long to the ground. My terror was now com- 
plete. I thought I heard Mr. Farley behind 
me. Never did any poor fugitive, fleeing to a 
City of Refuge, with the avenger of blood close 
upon him, feel greater terror or make swifter 
flight. 

I reached our parlor door. I turned the door 
knob, and fell prostrate in a fainting fit. Two 
lady visitors were in the parlor talking to my 
mother. . When I came to myself I was upstairs 
on a bed and my mother and the ladies applying 
restoratives. As soon as I opened my eyes, 
my mother in pale affright cried, " What is the 
matter my son?" "Oh," I exclaimed, feeling 
as if I had done the most tragic and heroic ac- 
tion in the world — "I ran out of school." 

This affair was carefully discussed by the 
older members of the family. Asbury, as a mat- 
ter of prudence being allowed to hear but little 
of what was said. 

It was finally agreed that he should continue 
at school, if the teacher would promise not to 
punish him for this act of rebellion. Under this 
promise, he returned the next morning. He 
studied harder than ever, both to say good les- 
sons and to please his teacher. In a day or two, 
however, for some slight offense, he was again 



50 DM. MOOD. 



whipped, and during the process of punishment, 
he was taunted with being a "runaway." This 
he reported to his mother, knowing that he had 
her sympathy, and that she was committed to 
his protection. This had its effect, for soon 
after, he was quietly transferred to the High 
School, thereby closing the chapter of miseries 
in his boyhood life. 



CHAPTER IV. 

EARLY RELIGIOUS IMPRESSIONS AND EXPERIENCES. 

In the foundation of Francis Asbury Mood's 
life, as recounted in the preceding pages, that 
stone which was to become the " head of the 
corner " has neither been discussed, nor so much 
as touched upon. We have so far given the 
thoughts, incidents, and accidents, relating to 
this present life, up to the tenth year of his age. 

We now propose to narrate the thoughts, im- 
pressions and experiences of the heart as they 
are related to the life to come. He ever enjoyed 
a bright religious experience, and it was his de- 
light to dwell upon the particulars of his con- 
version, and bear witness of the power of grace, 
either in the class meeting, the love feast, or if 
occasion offered, in more restricted circles. No 
one could hear him, in the deep intonations of 
his rich modulated voice, relate any of the inci- 
dents of his conversion without feeling deeply 
impressed by it. Fortunately we are able to 
give his early religious impressions and experi- 
ences in his own words. 

" Father, a pious minister, mother, a devoted 
Christian, they gave much attention to the relig- 



52 DB. MOOD. 



ious training of their children. I cannot 
therefore recall the time, when I did not think 
seriously about future and eternal things; when 
I did not pray, or when I did not daily, night 
and morning, hear the Scriptures read, a verse 
or two of a hymn sung, and a father's prayer 
offered at the family altar. Blessed privilege ! 
Blessed experience ! How often have I in early 
life, foolishly envied the wealth and position 
held by boys and young men at school and at 
college, which were denied me. But oh, how 
foolish, ungrateful, and wicked were such 
thoughts. Now in the maturity of life, as I look 
back and review it all, I would not give the pre- 
cious legacy of my father's prayers and example, 
and my mother's pious devotion and instruction 
for all the wealth, jewels, gold and fame that 
the world could offer me. 

I recall vividly at this moment* an occasion 
of great solemnity and religious feeling that I 
experienced when I could not have been more 
than three or four years old. I dreamed that 
I had seen the lake of fire, where the wicked 
find eternal pain. I can recall with distinctness, 
the impressions it made upon me, and the feel- 
ings it awakened. Though it was the first im- 
pression of the kind that I remember, it remains 
with me as distinct at this hour, as the morning 

♦This paper was dated at Georgetown, Texas, Sept. 10th, 1875, 



EARL Y RELIOIO US LIFE. 53 

I awoke from the dream. Sometime after this, 
I did something sinful. I do not now recall the 
act, but I dreamed under my feelings of re- 
morse, that I was lost. Another time I dreamed 
that I witnessed the terrors and solemnities of 
the judgment. At another time I dreamed that 
I was saved in heaven, and from that place of 
bliss, looked down rejoicing upon the sinful 
world below. 

"Now these were only dreams, but I mention 
them because they indicate the current of my 
waking thoughts. 

"I went regularly to Sunday-School, and to 
preaching, and I was taught hymns and the 
catechism, by my mother, at home; but I grieve 
to say, I took no pleasure in any of these mat- 
ters. As I grew older my anxious thoughts and 
fears increased, and with them my dislike to 
religious things. When I was quite small, my 
parents commenced to tent regularly at the 
Charleston Camp Meetings. This they kept up 
until after I entered the ministry. To us, this 
annual occasion of worship was the great event 
of the year. 

"At the time of which I now speak, the 
camp-meetings were held some twelve or fifteen 
miles up the Cooper river, at a place called 
Cain Hoy. We went thither in steamboats. 
The camp ground was circled by rustic plank 



54 DR. MOOD. 



houses, of temporary construction, or inter- 
spersed by roomy cloth tents. To children shut 
up in a city, the preparation, the packing up, 
the trip on the steamer, the pitching of .the tent, 
the rustic simplicity of the life, had great 
charms, and was a healthy and delightful recrea- 
tion. I would have enjoyed it a great deal more, 
had I not been required to attend the religious 
services. But this requirement was never re- 
laxed, except at night. 

u At break of day, a trumpet was sounded 
around the circle of tents to awaken the tenters. 
An hour afterwards, three blasts of the trumpet 
from the preachers' tent, announced a call to 
family worship, in which each tenter was ex- 
pected to engage. Breakfast followed imme- 
diately after prayers. At eight o'clock, three 
blasts of the trumpet from "the stand," called 
the people to the public worship. The worship- 
ers gathered immediately and began singing. 
Then came the sermon, always followed by an 
exhortation, with a call for penitents to come 
forward for prayer and religious instruction. 
This service was repeated at eleven o'clock, at 
three o'clock and at twilight. At night, on 
many small stands, judiciously arranged over 
the grounds, fires of pine wood were built, and 
kept up until a late hour, to give light to the 
tenters and worshipers. Many incidents of 



EARL Y RELIQlO ITS LIFE. fe5 

marked interest in my life, occurred at these 
annual gatherings. 

' ' The preaching of the camp-meeting was all 
calculated to arouse, awaken, and call to action 
the religious sensibilities. Judgment, Hell, 
Heaven, Redemption, Conscience, the Shortness 
of Time, were the topics urged with great direct- 
ness, earnestness and eloquence; and seldom an 
occasion of worship passed, that penitents were 
not seen at the altar invoking the prayers of 
God's people. Young as I was, I was conscious 
that I had sinned, and I always went forward 
for prayer, because I feared that if I did not, I 
would grieve God's Spirit. Generally the 
preacher said something to encourage me, but I 
am now impressed, whether correctly or not I 
cannot say, that my extreme youth, and my fre- 
quent attendance at the altar, led the preacher 
finally to conclude that I hardly knew what I 
was about. I recollect a conversation that I had 
with one of them, — or rather a catechism to 
which I was subjected by one of the older 
preachers, as to my feelings, desires, hopes, and 
expectations, which led me to cease going to the 
altar for some time. Although I could not ex- 
plain my feelings, I knew I did not love God, 
and feared that he did uot love me, and I wanted 
the peace of heart and the love of God, which in 
the love-feast, I had so frequently heard pro- 



56 DB. MOOD. 



fessed by Christians, and which I had also heard 
many times, declared by preachers to be the 
privilege of God's believing children. 

"I, with my father's family, went to Camp- 
meeting in April, 1839. I was in my ninth year. 
It was an occasion of great awakening. My 
mind was deeply exercised, and on my return 
home, I found courage to go to my mother, and 
ask her if I might join the Church. It was a 
bright spring day, and she was seated sewing in 
our little parlor. She talked with me very af- 
fectionately, and advised me, to my great disap- 
pointment, to wait until I understood matters a 
little better. She feared I was too young to 
comprehend the importance and solemnity of 
the step f 1 wanted to take. This was one, per- 
haps, the only instance, I recall in life, in which 
I feel that my dear mother erred. It did not 
however result in anything disastrous, as I had 
her daily counsel, example and prayers. But 
had she died; had I been called to die, it might 
have been far otherwise. I felt as distinctly my 
religious needs then, as I have ever felt them 
since. 

"During the year 1840, the buildings on the 
camp ground at Cain Hoy, were burned, and 
therefore instead of a Camp-meeting in the 
spring, as had been usual for years, a protracted 
meeting was held in Trinity Church, in April, 



EARL T RELIGIO US LIFE. 57 

1841. Quite a number of young people joined 
the Church at that meeting. Without further 
consultation with my mother, on the afternoon 
of April 21st, 1841, in company with O. A. 
Chrietzberg, James T. Munds, and E. J. Pen- 
ington, I went forward and gave my hand to 
Rev. James Stacy for membership in the church. 
All of my companions, like myself, became 
members of the South Carolina Conference, as 
itinerant preachers. James T. Munds died of 
consumption — a triumphant death, and E. J. 
Penington is now a superannuated preacher in 
the South Carolina Conference. The day after 
joining the church, we went to the parsonage, 
as was then customary, to have our distinctive 
position assigned us in the ranks of the church 
militant. Brother Stacy gave us our tickets of 
probation, and we were assigned to a class. I 
still have my ticket. I have for years kept it 
rolled up with other valuable papers, as a me- 
mento of the most important step I ever took in 
life; and for which I shall never cease to be 
grateful to the Blessed God, by whose Spirit I 
was prompted to take it. The ticket lies before 
me and reads:. 

"Francis A. Mood is admitted on probation, 
in the M. E. Church, April, 22, 1841. 

[Signed], James Stacy. 

Will meet in Class No. 21." 



58 DR. MOOD. 



"Class No. 21 was the young men's class, of 
which my brother Henry was then the leader. 
During the week I was taken quite ill, so that I 
was unable on Thursday night to go to class. 
Meantime my mother at her own instance, spoke 
to the preacher, and had my name transferred 
to class No. 16, of which she was a member. I 
always esteemed this act as a wise and blessed 
one. Meeting in the same class with my pre- 
cious mother, hearing her expressions of doubt, 
hope, faith, and joy, made a deep impression on 
my mind. The leader of this class, from hence- 
forth my drill-master, was George Just, a 
sturdy, honest, earnest, godly German. He 
could not speak English plainly, but how well 
and plainly and successfully could he talk of 
the Divine life in the Soul ! He watched over 
me with paternal care, and to his death, which 
it was my melancholy privilege to witness, I 
ceased not to love and revere him. 

' 'After six months' trial, I was received into 
full connection. My marching orders were then 
given me in the shape of a printed ticket. This 
ticket also emphasized my class relationship. 
"Will meet in class No. 16 !" That tells a great 
deal. Methodism was then a completely organ- 
ized, thoroughly compacted salvation army. 
Every one had his position assigned him. No 
straggling was tolerated, for three absences from 



EARL 7 RELIQIO US LIFE 59 

roll-call brought reproof from the commander 
of that section. 

"Three years had passed since that memor- 
able day when I gave my hand to the minister 
and my name to the church records. Three 
years of legal obedience, three years of dark- 
ness, of struggle, of sadness. My good old 
class-leader expounded, encouraged, exhorted, 
but I found no relief. I read my Bible regu- 
larly, but abhorred the duty, for it was full of 
condemnation to me. I attended class regularly, 
but abhorred the duty, for its return brought 
only rebuke and suffering to my heart. I at- 
tended every service of the ministry, but ab- 
horred the duty, for the sermons only chided 
me and did not interest me. Sunday was the 
darkest day of the week to me. The greetings 
of the Sabbath chimes — I wish some of our 
churches had chimes — that rang out gladness in 
their tones, rang out only sadness to my ears, 
because they reminded me, it was the Sabbath. 
You wonder at this perhaps. Well, in the light 
of reason it is a subject of wonder; but in the 
light of simple evangelic teachings there is 
nothing to wonder at. I had the training, the 
doctrinal belief, the church membership, but 1 
lacked that which only faith could claim and 
the Holy Spirit impart. 

"There was a camp-ground on the line of the 



60 DR. MOOD. 



South Carolina railroad, thirty-one miles from 
the city, which was proffered to the city Metho- 
dists for use, until they could rebuild the houses 
of their own camp-ground, which had been de- 
stroyed by fire. This offer was accepted, and 
the committee arranged for the meetings to be 
held at the Cypress camp-ground, in April 1844. 
k 'I went with the family to this camp-ground. 
I was present at the four services each day, 
only to suffer four times self-condemnation. 
Learned, eloquent, powerful sermons succeeded 
each other, preached to multitudes. Many were 
stricken to the heart. _ Numbers of the youth 
and young men of my acquaintance yielded to 
these appeals, "went up to be prayed for and 
were happily converted." Some of them had 
been profane and otherwise wicked; they were 
happily reconciled through faith in the atoning 
blood, but I could find no peace. My burden 
grew heavier. It was Saturday night of the 
meeting. The services at the stand had been 
dismissed. I walked forth into the darkness, 
and wandered around the circle of tents in ab- 
ject sorrow and wretchedness of soul. Passing 
one of the tents I heard singing within. I 
paused and recognized the voices of some of the 
young converts. They were engaged in a prayer 
meeting. I entered. It was dark, for they were 
within an inner room. The intense darkness of 



EARL Y RELIGIO US LIFE. 61 

the room seemed to typify the intense darkness 
that filled my soul, and my agony became in- 
tolerable. I went forward reaching for the in- 
ner door. My strength utterly failed me. I 
fell to the ground prostrate, crying from the 
great depths of my soul. "Lord Jesus, have 
mercy on me." A moment afterwards I felt 
that I could trust Jesus as my Savior then. At 
once my burden was lifted, my sorrow had fled, 
a light supernal beamed into my soul, and I was 
filled with gladness. It seemed to me that my 
whole frame would melt into thankfulness, and 
I remained sobbing on the ground. As the 
young men within arose from prayer, in an in- 
terval of silence, they heard the sobs of some 
one outside. "Billy' 1 Capers opened the parti- 
tion door to see what it meant, and found me 
lying at the threshold. He lifted me up — my 
heart filled with rapture and tears of gladness 
choking my utterance. My friends recognized 
me; they saw in my countenance the joy and 
peace I felt within, and rejoiced with me. 

"But how shall I describe the great change 
that my inward consciousness told me had 
passed upon me ? I went to our tent, all had re- 
tired, I drew out my little box, and got out my 
red-covered Bible that my mother had given 
me; for the first time in my life I felt eager to 
read it. Before, I had only found condemna- 



62 DR. MOOD. 



tion in its pages, now I found them filled with 
blessed consolations and promises. I lingered 
upon passage after passage, and after offering 
a prayer and thanksgiving, with a fervor, and 
earnestness I had never before known, at a late 
hour, I retired for sleep. 

"The blare of the morning trumpet awoke me 
at day-light, and now a fresh wonder filled my 
soul. For the first time in my recollection I 
was glad to welcome God's holy Sabbath. I 
listened eagerly for the trumpet to sound the 
opportunity of worship. I was glad, when 
they said unto me, "Let us go into the 
house of the Lord." The venerable Reddick 
Pierce was in the pulpit, a profound, but until 
then, to me profoundly uninteresting preacher. 
He preached on Prayer, St. Luke XVIII ch., 
1 verse. How delightful the sermon was ! 
Every word, every sentence, every illustration, 
exactly right. I had no thought of criticism. 
Ah ! the fact in the case was, I was thirsting for 
the word, and how that disarms objections ! 

"How clearly did my own experience prove 
to me, "that by the deeds of the law there shall 
be no flesh justified." That by no processes of 
education can the power and the joy of a relig- 
ious life be imparted, that "Except ye be con- 
verted, and become as little children," — "Except 
a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom 



EARL 7 RELIOIO US LIFE. 63 

of God. " From that hour religion was a reality 
and a blessed experience. I walked carefully 
before the Lord, and though in the years that 
have intervened, I have, too often, been negli- 
gent and unfaithful, and too often wilfully de- 
parted from the path of duty, I thank God that 
I have never doubted the reality of the change 
of heart experienced on that memorable occa- 
sion, and I doubt not but, that Saturday night 
of 1844, will be a point of time, which I will 
look back upon through all the rolling ages of 
the coming glory, 

"The happy day 

When Jesus washed my sins away. " 

"How long ye simple ones will ye love sim- 
plicity 1 and the scorners delight in their scorn- 
ing, and fools hate knowledge % " How long ye 
guilty ones will ye pursue guilty pleasure-seek- 
ing happiness, and ye unbelieving ones contend 
with conscience and with God? Oh come to 
this fountain of living waters which will be "in 
you a well of water springing up into eternal 
life." Oh fly to Jesus. "Go to his bleeding 
feet and learn how freely Jesus can forgive." 

"From the hour of my conversion, so long as 
I bravely and persistently did my whole duty 
as it was revealed to me in the Word of God, 
and by the promptings of his Spirit, I have 
never ceased to enjoy the same blessed comfort 



64 DR. MOOD. 



that I knew "when first I saw the Lord." I 
have found the path of duty, not only the path 
of safety, but u the ways of pleasantness" and 
the paths of peace. 

"A young men's prayer meeting had been in 
operation in the city, meeting on every Satur- 
day night in a room near Bethel Church. After 
the Cypress camp-meeting I was invited to at- 
tend. We moved our place of meeting, shortly 
afterwards to the basement room of the parson- 
age on Calhoun street. 

We used to have gracious seasons at these 
meetings. Souls were converted on nearly 
every occasion of our coming together; we were 
zealous for God, and were accustomed to per- 
suade onr unconverted or ungodly companions 
to go with us to the meetings. 

Quite a number of preachers went out from 
this prayer-meeting. Among them I can name 
O. A. Chrietzberg, E. J. Penington, U. S. 
Bird, J. A. Mood, W.' W. Mood, Peter M. 
Ryborn, W. Capers, O. A. Darby and others. 
God met with our little assembly, and we sang 
and prayed and rejoiced together. 

I had been in regular attendance on these 
meetings for some months, when on one occa- 
sion, kneeling in the southwest corner of the 
room, engaged in earnest prayer, an impression 
was suddenly and vividly made on mind that I 



EARL T RELIGIOUS LIFE. 65 

would find it my duty to preach the Gospel. 

The thought came suddenly, unexpectedly 
and greatly startled me. I tried to banish it, 
but it hung about my heart like a great weight. 
During the .prayers that followed, I struggled 
to shake off the impression; I tried to pray and 
could not, and at last getting down on my knees, 
in obedience to a call to pray, I said in a whisper 
audible to myself, "Yes Lord, if it is thy will, 
I will preach the Gospel." 

I was at this time about fourteen years of age. 
I said nothing about my impression or my 
promise, but from that time forth I "drew all 
my cares and studies that way" and made every 
arrangement, and entered upon every engage- 
ment in life, feeling that it was my duty to 
preach the Gospel. This purpose, as soon as 
it was fixed, seemed to bring to my mind, that 
"peace which passeth understanding." 



CHAPTER V. 

THE CHAKLESTON BOY. 

The transfer of Asbury Mood from the blind, 
though perhaps well-intended, tyranny of Mr. 
Farley, to the mild, intelligent discipline of the 
high school, was a bright transition to him, and 
it was fraught with the best results. He, at this 
time, was ten years of age; and was assigned to 
a course of study looking to a preparation for 
college. Owing to the ill-health of the assistant 
teacher who had charge of the lower depart- 
ments, Asbury came, at once, under the direct 
supervision and instruction of the principal, 
Henry M. Bruns, LL. D., that veteran edu- 
cator who laid the foundation for the varied at- 
tainments and accomplishments of so many 
Charlestonians, who afterwards held high places 
in either the learned professions or the walks of 
literature. 

Dr. Bruns, by his gentleness coupled with 
firmness, his winning ways and his deep sym- 
pathies, soon won the unbounded admiration of 
his young pupil; and instead of being haltingly 
driven to his studies, by fear or the lash, he put 
forth his best endeavors, both by good behavior 



DR. MOOD. 



and close attention to his books, to merit the 
good opinion of his teacher. 

Stimulated, first, to diligence in study, by the 
hope of receiving the approbation of his instruc- 
tor, he soon became interested in his text-books 
and began to love learning for its own sake. He 
spent several years under the instruction of Dr. 
Bruns when " his preparation for college was 
completed. 

Here we find him a model student, punctually 
and promptly in his place, always tractable, and 
ever prepared when the hour for recitation 
came; thereby in all the years of his high school 
life he never received a word of reproof, or ever 
a rebuking look, from his teacher. 

He was, however, at this time, in the midst 
of temptations to listen to, and imitate the words 
and acts, of wicked boys. He had already, 
while at Mr. Farley's school, in some degree, 
been subjected to these evil influences, and from 
which no doubt he had suffered, for no one dur- 
ing the susceptible age of childhood, can be 
brought constantly into contact with wickedness 
without being deeply affected by the association. 
In spite of these surroundings at the high 
school, as lie looked back from the maturity of 
manhood, he felt that he had reason to thank 
God, that after his conversion sufficient grace 
was given him to enable him to take a decided 



THE CHARLESTON BOY. 



position, which largely relieved him from these 
influences. This position was so early, and so 
well taken, that after his death his oldest 
brother thus wrote of him: "He was conscien- 
tious and upright from early childhood, as well 
as during manhood, and if ever guilty of an 
immoral act it never came to my knowledge, or 
the knowledge of his parents. A scrupulous 
integrity marked his life. He never took a 
chew of tobacco, indulged in a cigar, played 
cards, attended the circus or theatre, took a 
drink of liquor, swore an oath, or told an un- 
chaste anecdote." 

A single incident will serve to show how he 
took and maintained his position among his fel- 
lows. On one occasion, when his class had been 
allowed the freedom of the passage-way for 
study, two of the boys beginning an immoral 
conversation, he arose to leave. They, suspect- 
ing the cause, began to laugh to scorn this 
action. He at once bravely turned and faced 
them, and told them that he was a member of 
the church, and was trying to save his soul, 
therefore he could not afford to remain and hear 
their words. Shortly afterwards, in the presence 
of several of his class, he was sneered at by a 
rude sort of a bully among them, as being a 
"great Christian." He calmly said in reply, U I 
am no great Christian, but I am a member of 



70 DB. MOOD. 



the church trying to live right, so that I will be 
saved when I die." To the surprise of his fel- 
lows tears gathered in the ruffiian's eyes, and 
turning, he said, ' 'I wish, Mood, I was a good 
Christian." Ever afterwards this boy was his 
defender and friend, true and respectful. Such 
prompt declarations of his decided positions, 
taken and maintained in childhood, was a 
marked characteristic of the man. Among his 
school-fellows, the traits of a brave boy, as de- 
veloped by such trials, always demanded respect 
for his presence and professions, thereby pre- 
venting him from being subjected to but few 
annoyances and temptations from his thought- 
less class-mates, as well as causing him to wield 
a wholesome influence for good, among all his 
friends. 

He had been in attendance at the high school 
for only a few months, when his father met with 
a great reverse in business. Eev. John Mood, 
in partnership with his brother, was struggling 
along against the financial troubles that op- 
pressed the country from 1837 to 1840, when 
one of their employees, by a well-planned rob- 
bery brought on the catastrophe. This man ar- 
ranged for a champagne sapper, to begin on 
Saturday night, to which all of the clerks and 
employees were invited. He succeeded in get- 
ting the head clerk so completely under the 



THE CHARLESTON BOY. 71 

influence of liquor, that he extracted the keys 
from his pocket; with them he entered the store. 
He then packed two large trunks with watches, 
jewelry, and plate to the value of several thous- 
and dollars, and fled west. Taking the cars on 
Sunday morning, and the robbery not being 
discovered until Monday, he had two days the 
start of his pursuers, who followed him to the 
borders of Texas, where he eluded them. 

By a strange coincidence, Dr. Mood, after a 
lapse of thirty years, found out from parties in 
the state that the man never came to Texas at 
all, as his father who pursued him, had sup- 
posed; but being closely pressed he left the high- 
ways in Louisiana, and while hiding there he 
soon sickened and died. 

Having failed in business, and having surrend- 
ered everything to his creditors, but his tools, 
Rev. John Mood at once moved back into King 
Street, and bravely began life anew, with no 
capital, but an honest name, a skillful hand, and 
an abiding trust in God. 

While these business troubles were yet press- 
ing heavily upon the family, they were also 
afflicted by sickness and death. First, Miss 
Silena Smith, that godly woman, whose early 
life was a ministry to pioneer Methodist 
preachers, and whose latter years came as a 
benediction to the family in which she resided, 



72 DM. MOOD. 



was smitten with apoplexy, and after lingering 
for some time passed peacefully away. She was 
carried to her grave in a storm of rain and wind, 
and laid to rest during the warring of the ele- 
ments. This occasion clothed death, with an 
awful majesty, in the eyes of the child. 

Shortly after this, his baby brother, Andrew, 
a sweet boy, two years of age, died next, dur- 
ing the absence of his mother, who had been 
summoned to the death-bed of his grand-mother, 
in Oxford, Ga. , he was taken sick, and though 
carefully nursed, he suffered all the forlornness 
of a motherless boy. While his mother was 
away, his baby sister, who was with her died. 
As if this were not enough, during the next sum- 
mer cholera prevailed as an epidemic in 
Charleston, with its fatal results, Asbury him- 
self came near dying with the disease. 

The financial troubles, the sickness, the suffer- 
ing and death had a marked effect upon his 
mind/ They awakened his serious thoughts, 
softened his nature, and withal gave an impress 
of sadness to this stage of his life, which lingered 
about it for several years. 

Soon after his father resumed work on King 
Street, it became necessary to take him from 
school. His other brothers had been entered 
into various employments, and Asbury was 



THE CHARLESTON BO T. 73 

taken into the shop with his father, to learn the 
trade of watchmaker and jeweler. 

Here he learned rapidly, for he possessed 
naturally a mechanical turn, and all of his life 
he had been a great deal among the tools and 
workmen, frequently having seen and studied 
the processes of melting, refining, milling, ham- 
mering, and other ways of working the precious 
metals. 

After acquiring this trade, he obtained busi- 
ness as clerk in the office of the harbor master 
and port warden. Here he received good wages. 
This chapter of his life was a novel one. His 
employees were all old sea-captains, who had 
seen much of the world and who loved to dis- 
course of their voyages. From them he learned 
much of other nations and countries; and by 
his associations and surroundings obtaining 
quite an insight into sea-life, he imbibed a strong 
desire to voyage the ocean — a taste not abated 
up to the hour of his death. 

It was his business to board every vessel that 
arrived from a foreign port, and ascertain its 
tonnage, and number of passengers or emigrants 
aboard. He also kept the record of what was 
called the protest of ships injured by leaks or 
storms, and requiring a survey or examination 
by the Board of Port Wardens. 

There was but little for him to do, in this 



74 DB. MOOD. 



office, during the dull months of summer, but 
his energy would not allow him to spend the 
time in idleness. 

He had imbibed a deep love for learning, and 
he did the most profitable thing that he could 
have done at this time, — he took his books to 
the office, and by utilizing his leisure moments, 
he kept up his knowledge of Latin, Greek and 
mathematics. This desire to learn grew upon 
him with these efforts, and despite the difficul- 
ties that at this time seemed to interpose, he 
determined to secure a complete collegiate edu- 
cation. With his parents' approbation, he began 
hoarding all his wages for the furtherance of 
this end. This purpose was fully settled with 
him on February 22d, 1842, the occasion of the 
Charleston College commencement, at which his 
oldest brother, Henry, graduated, having won 
his way through college by his own efforts. By 
this example Asbury saw that he might acquire 
a collegiate education by his own labors, the 
prize lay before him, he determined to emulate 
his brother in the struggle putting forth every 
energy until he had gained it. 

His brother had secured the means of defray- 
ing his college expenses by his labors in, at the 
time, rather a neglected field. He had been 
sent to Cokesbury to school, but upon his father 
finding that he was unable longer to assist him, 



THE CHARLESTON BOY. 75 

and his own labors as gunsmith not supporting 
him he returned to Charleston. Despondent in 
reference to the future, while feeling it his duty 
to preach, he was at a loss what to do. He felt 
the need of an education to fit him for his high 
calling. He went to his father with his troubles, 
and that good man said to him, "If God has 
called you to preach, follow the leadings of his 
Providence and your way will be opened." Soon 
after this, in a most unexpected manner, a way 
was opened, not only for him, but a way by 
which each one of his four brothers, in turn, 
was enabled to solve the financial problem of an 
education, and even to leave college with a re- 
spectable cash balance on hand. 

Belonging to the Methodist Church in Charles- 
ton, was a large membership of free colored peo- 
ple. Some of them were persons of means and 
character. They realized the advantages of an 
education and desired such for their children; but 
owing to the prejudice of the times, they had 
found it difficult to employ any capable or prop- 
er person as a teacher. A proposition was 
made to Henry Mood to organize a school for 
their benefit, to be taught in the afternoon, 
thereby allowing him to attend college in the 
morning. He agreed to make the trial. A 
Board of Trustees was organized by the leading 
colored men of the city, headed by William and 



76 DR. MOOD. 



Samuel Weston. They rented a house, a school 
was opened, and Henry Mood entered the Col- 
lege of Charleston. This school, under his in- 
struction grew rapidly in numbers. It paid him 
four hundred dollars the first year, and was 
soon so enlarged that the second son, John, on 
seeing the opportunity for an education aban- 
doned the study of dentistry, upon which he had 
entered, became assistant in the school and en- 
tered the college also. 

When Henry Mood graduated, John Mood 
became principal, and James Mood assistant. 

Daring the year 1844, while Asbury Mood 
was yet in the harbor master's and the port 
warden's office, the excitement in the Methodist 
Church incident to the attempt made in the 
General Conference which met in New York, 
to suspend Bishop Andrew from the Bishopric 
without form of trial, and which resulted in the 
division of the church, proved very interesting 
to this Charleston boy. Bishop Andrew was 
his uncle, and was frequently at his father's 
house. Some of the negroes who caused the 
conscience agonies of the Northern brethren 
were family negroes, and he knew them well. 
He heard the matter frequently discussed at his 
home, so he read with great interest the General 
Conference proceedings, and when the Bishop 
reached Charleston on his way home, he listened 



THE CHARLESTON BOY. 77 

with eagerness to the conversation of the dele- 
gates who visited the Bishop at his father's 
house, the Bishop himself saying but little on 
the subject. As a boy he thus became interested 
in church polity and history, which in later 
years led to great familiarity upon these sub- 
jects. 

On Tuesday, March 25, 1845, James Mood 
and John Mood graduated from the College of 
Charleston. James Mood at once began the 
study of medicine, the place of assistant thus 
being vacated, at the suggestion of John Mood, 
who remained as principal, Asbury, though not 
yet fifteen years of age, supplied that position, 
and at the same time re-entered the high school. 
This was a glad opportunity to him, for he saw 
that he had in his reach the fulfilment of a long- 
cherished desire. This, however, was a very 
laborious period of his life, and a less deter- 
mined boy would have tired of the labor and 
failed in the effort. 

The school for the colored youth was taught 
in a large, comfortable room, that could be well 
ventilated in summer and well warmed in winter. 
The trustees looked after the matter of tuition 
as well as incidental expenses, relieving the 
teachers from these details and guaranteeing to 
them a per capita for each pupil enrolled and in 
attendance. Pupils were not admitted into 



78 DR. MOOD. 



regular connection with the school until they 
could read and write. The most elementary 
class studied arithmetic, geography, history, 
and elementary philosophy. The most advanced 
classes pursued the studies of the senior year of 
the College of Charleston, including the Latin 
and Greek Tacitus and the Odyssey of Homer. 
A debating society existed, composed of the 
members of the advanced classes, organized and ' 
directed by the teachers. The society possessed 
an excellent nucleus of a library in which many 
volumes of standard works could be found. 
The school also had its regular public anniver- 
sary occasions, which partook very much of the 
style of the white schools in the city. Nothing 
was neglected, which in' the opinions of the 
teachers would tend to the mental or spiritual 
improvement and elevation of the pupils. These 
things show that this labor was not for financial 
considerations only. 

During the existence of this school, and that 
of a flourishing branch — the outgrowth of it, 
it has been estimated that at least twelve hund- 
red children, at one time and another, came un- 
der its care and influence. There these young 
teachers did good and successful work, of which 
they were never afterwards ashamed; but on the 
other hand, it was ever a great pleasure to know, 
that by their labors in this neglected, and at this 



THE CHARLESTON BOY. 79 

time despised field of toil, their family contrib- 
uted so much to the intellectual and religious 
welfare of the colored people of Charleston. 

Prior to these secular labors, and probably 
leading to them, Kev. John Mood, as early as 
1832, organized a Sunday-school for the colored 
children, which he maintained for years by his 
solitary efforts. As his sons grew up they were 
required to assist him. There Asbury taught 
the catechism to the little blacks, in Cumber- 
land Church basement, when he was so young 
as scarcely to be able to read well himself. 
Thus he early learned not to despise the col- 
ored race as unworthy religious and intellectual 
instruction. 

The double role, which he had assumed, of 
student and teacher, demanded that all his time 
must be economized, and used with utmost dili- 
gence and method. His duties required him to 
be at the high school at half past eight o'clock 
in the morning, and there to remain until half 
past one. He must then eat dinner and be ready 
to enter upon his work as teacher promptly at 
two o'clock. There he labored until half past 
five in the afternoon. Here, by this severe train- 
ing, he acquired habits of punctuality and dili- 
gence, and fixed them so deeply that in after 
life it was frequently said of him, "he is never 
unemployed, and never triflingly employed." 



80 DR. MOOD. 



Upon his return to the high school, he found 
himself far behind the class with which he had 
been associated. Dr. Bruns,- however, gave him 
permission to try, by extra recitations and study, 
to overtake this class, and if successful, prom- 
ised to allow him to enter college with it. 
How well he succeeded in these efforts, which 
added to his tasks already assumed, and made 
his labors herculean, — may be learned from his 
school report of March, 1846, — the month which 
closed his preparation for college. At the close 
of this month, he had not only overtaken his 
class, but in that class he was awarded first 
honor. Upon leaving the high school for col- 
lege, this honor was announced by Dr. Bruns, 
who appointed him to the distinction of deliver- 
ing an original valedictory to the teachers and 
school, in behalf of his class-mates. This beiDg 
done, the class filed off to college, where hence- 
forth they were to enter upon the higher role of 
men. 



CHAPTER VI. 

IN COLLEGE. 

The formative period of the life that is engag- 
ing us has largely passed. Asbury Mood early 
aligned himself in the course of his future ac- 
tion; but in the employments, surroundings and 
college associations, new forces, whether by di- 
rect application or unconscious interaction, were 
to give direction to his thoughts, and thereby 
tend to the development of his character. 

Charleston College is an unassuming institu- 
tion. It is one of the oldest educational founda- 
tions in the South, having been incorporated by 
act of assembly in 1785. It is directly under 
the patronage and support of the City Council, 
who by annual appropriations supplement the 
otherwise meager income, and it claims to be 
independent of political influence and sectarian 
patronage. The faculty at this time was com- 
posed of six highly cultured gentlemen, presided 
over by Win. P. Finley, LL. D., buton the whole 
the system of administration and instruction 
was old-fashioned and non-progressive, running 
in the same grooves that had been cut years and 
years before. The recitation was cold and 



82 DB. MOOD. 



formal. The professors seemed to feel that their 
duty was fully discharged by their efforts in the 
lecture room. There was not that personal con- 
tact which induces personal sympathy and en- 
couragement between the faculty and the 
students, except in individual cases, where either 
from relationship or social status they saw fit 
to cultivate it. Asbury Mood felt the effect of 
this course deeply. He was in college four 
years. During all that time the entire corps of 
professors and trustees never spoke twenty 
words to him outside of the recitation room, nor 
did they speak as many words to his parents as 
to the progress of their son in college, although 
these trustees and professors passed his father's 
house and place of business almost daily. This 
was a striking illustration of the social barriers 
set up even in the literary arid learned circles of 
the state, for there were students who held 
daily intercourse with these same professors and 
trustees, both at their homes and elsewhere, 
while those who had not the "guinea's stamp" 
were invariably among the neglected, and they 
felt that the distinction was not accidental. 

At the time he entered college Henry Mood 
was on a visit home, and on the day before en- 
tering the institution, this brother gave him 
some advice that was to be a blessing to him 
throughout his college course, The young 



IN COLLEGE. 83 



preacher invited Asbury out for a walk, and 
then said in substance: ''You are about entering 
college. I have been all along where you are 
about to travel, and I know something of its 
trials and perils. I think I can help you, and to 
do so, I want you to promise me four things. 
You can do them, you ought to do them, and take 
my word for it, if you carry out your promises 
you will never regret this proposal." 

Having great confidence in his brother, he did 
not hesitate to assert his willingness to make the 
promises. 

Then said his brother: "You are a professor 
of religion, and a member of the Methodist 
Church. You are going where irreligion and 
scorn of piety are in the ascendant; now I want 
you to promise me that you will take the first 
opportunity offered you, to avow your Method- 
ism and discipleship with Christ, instead of wait- 
ing for some opposing influence to draw it from 
you as a confession " 

The fulfilment of this promise would necessi- 
tate the exercise of Christian courage, but As- 
bury promised. 

u Now," continued he, "it is the impression of 
your friends that you expect to preach, and I 
want you to promise me that you will join one 
of the debating societies as soon after entering 
college as possible." 



84 DR. MOOD. 



This he gladly promised. 

'•And now I want you to promise me, that 
you will make an effort to take part in the de- 
bates at the very first opportunity given you." 

Not knowing how much this involved, he 
nevertheless made the promise. 

"Finally, I want you to promise me, to ac- 
cept, and discharge to the best of your ability, 
any and every duty imposed upon you by your 
society or fellow students, that you can perform 
in good conscience. " 

This was also promised. 

His brother then explained to him the advan- 
tages that would accrue if he would follow out 
these lines to which he was pledged. Henry 
Mood knew the surroundings and the boy. It 
was unnecessary to speak of the course of study 
for that was laid down; it was unnecessary to 
admonish him to be studious, for Asbury felt 
the worth of an education by knowing what it 
was costing him, even if his good sense and 
energy would let him be otherwise; it was un- 
necessary to warn him of bad habits, for if he 
avowed his church relationship, that would be 
the best shield from temptation, and the best 
protection for his religious life and character. 
The promises were exacted, and his brother 
knew that they would be fulfilled. 

After passing the formalities of the entrance 



m COLLEGE. 85 



examination, the class were gravely informed 
that they had been admitted, and their names 
would be enrolled on the college register. The 
college regulations were explained, lessons 
assigned, and they were dismissed with the or- 
ders to be promptly on hand, at a given hour, 
the next morning. 

The first recitation was to be made to Profes- 
sor Miles, who occupied the chair of mathemat- 
ics. After prayers had been conducted in the 
chapel, the class solemnly filed into the recita- 
tion-room. With austere dignity the professor 
drew out his little book, and with studied de- 
liberation called the roll, emphasizing the mister 
which he placed before each name. The class 
were awe-stricken by hearing themselves for the 
first time addressed as men, as well as by the 
novelty of the surroundings, and the demeanor 
of the professor. 

W. K. JBachman, whose name appeared first 
on the roll, had been prepared for college by a 
teacher having the reputation for considerable 
severity, and who was quite deaf. His pupils, 
in all their recitations were required to speak in 
a loud tone. Prof. Miles called, "Mr. Bach- 
man," and then asked in his slow, measured 
way: "Mr. Bachman, what is a straight line?" 
Bachman, by this time thoroughly excited, 
gave way to his habit and bawled at the top of 



86 DB. MOOD. 



his voice, "The shortest distance between two 
points ! " 

All present were astounded, Prof. Miles's 
look of amazement, as much as anything else, 
made it irresi stable to the class, which broke out 
into laughter. Prof. Miles was now convinced 
that it was a pre-arranged joke, and thoroughly 
exasperated, he jumped to his feet, and peremp- 
torily ordered the class from the room. The 
class was now terror-stricken; the prospect of 
being hurled out of college as soon as they had 
entered greatly alarmed the young students. 
Several of them hastened to explain, as did 
Bachman to apologize. The professor finally 
was pacified and proceeded with the recitation. 

Immediately, upon entering college, our 
young friend made application for membership 
in the Cliosophic Society. He was regularly 
elected and notified to be present, for initiation, 
at the next meeting. Thus he fulfilled one of 
the promises made to his brother. The time 
arrived; he was duly initiated. The-debate was 
opened; the question for discussion was: "Is 
ridicule a greater power for good, or for evil ?" 
The dialectic seniors had wrangled over the 
different points for several hours; Asbury Mood 
sat listening to the first regular debate he had 
ever heard. There was a pause when, to his 
astonishment, the president turned to him and 



IN COLLEGE. 87 



said, "Will not the new member, Mr. Mood, 
favor the society with his views on the ques- 
tion?" The words of the president were fol- 
lowed by load cries over the hall, "Mood ! " 
"Mood ! " This was the cruel custom of having 
fun at the expense of a new member, who gen- 
erally made himself ridiculous either by his 
frightened looks, his awkward manner, or his 
clumsy excuses. But Asbury looked on it as 
the opportunity to fulfill one of the promises 
made to his brother, and he determined to make 
the effort. Surely "the spirit helpeth our in- 
firmities" whenever we essay to do our full 
duty, for no sooner had his mind been made up 
to meet the conditions of the third promise, 
than the first promise flashed across his mind 
with the whisper, "now is the time to avow 
your Methodism and discipleship." Then, to 
the surprise of the society, and with every eye 
bent upon him, he arose, and in the course of 
his attempted speech said in substance: "Mr. 
President, I am a member of the Methodist 
Church, and am trying to serve God. When I 
joined the church, quite a number of young per- 
sons of my age joined with me. Now, sir, as I 
look around in that church, I miss from among 
the members, a number who were then warm in 
the love of God, but who no longer are counted 
with his people. Where are they now % Gone 



DU. MOOT). 



back to the world. Why so? Many of them 
through fear of ridicule, and like Peter, they 
have denied their Lord. I therefore conclude 
from my experience, that ridicule is more 
powerful for evil than for good. " 

This speech was only a boy's argument, yet 
we see in it the foundation of the coming man. 
He had by this one act accomplished that which 
would be invaluable to him in coming years; 
for he had kept sacred, promises difficult to ful- 
fil. He had made a brave beginning in the 
matter of debate, and thereby was committed to 
an active and positive membership in the society. 
This resulted in his being elected, the same 
night, as the next "monthly orator," which 
under the fourth promise he was compelled to 
accept. And then most important of all he had 
made public avowal of church affiliations and 
religious purposes — from how much temptation 
did this act deliver him ! During his four years 
at college, no fellow student ever asked him to 
drink, to play a game of cards, or to engage in 
anything unbecoming the character of a pro- 
fessed Christian. He may have incurred ridi- 
cule, or sarcasm, but with a single exception, 
and that early in the course, never a deliberate 
invitation to do a knowingly wrong act. It was 
assumed by his class-mates, that having made 
such a declaration, and at such a time, it would 



IJST COLLEGE. 



be useless to propose to him any Line of conduct, 
in violation of it. 

The occasion alluded to, on which he was 
solicited to join in a wrong act, was in the latter 
part of the freshman year. One day, as Mood 
was hurrying out to get his dinner in order to 
be on time for his duties at the colored school, 
one of his class-mates notified him that the class 
wished to confer with him, at once, upon urgent 
business. When he reached the tree on the 
campus under which they were assembled, he 
found them organized, one of their number act- 
ing as chairman, and another as secretary. It 
appears that the class had a great fit of mischief- 
making upon them. They had been in college 
for several months, and they would soon be dis- 
missed for vacation. They had done no "deed 
of daring" that they could brag of to their com- 
panions not in college, — and in after years they 
could not do as they had heard their seniors do, 
— relate tricks played by them when in college. 

After Mood had been duly enrolled as present, 
the chairman informed him that the class had 
determined to come to the college that night, 
dismantle the bell, upset the benches in the 
chapel, then force their way into the laboratory 
and there destroy certain designated pieces of 
apparatus, — to all of which his co-operation was 
demanded. He, however, emphatically declined 



00 t)R. MOOD. 



to have anything to do with the matter, and 
promptly denounced the whole proceedings. 

u That is precisely what we expected," said 
the chairman, unintentionally complimenting 
him. ' ; Now we intend to go forward in this affair. 
Of course the class will be suspected, and sum- 
moned before the faculty, — when you are asked 
'what you know of the matter; ' what do you 
expect to say? 

"I expect to answer that I had nothing what- 
ever to do with it. " 

"Well," said the chairman, "do you not see 
that if every one in the class answers accordingly, 
those who did have something to do with it will 
be detected? " 

"I see it so," was the answer. 

"And furthermore," continued the chairman 
rising to his feet in indignation, "You are will- 
ing to act Benedict Arnold after this fashion, 
and betray your class-mates? Sir, we anticipated 
this, and I am directed to say in .behalf of the 
class that when this shall have occurred, they 
will expel you, sir! " 

That being a new and unprecedented turn to 
give matters, As bury Mood asked what -was 
meant by the class expelling him 

"It means, sir," was the reply, "that we will 
hold no intercourse with you, that we will not 
so much as speak to you, and regard you as 



llf COLLEGE. 91 



no fit associate for any member of the class." 
To this, Asbury Mood replied, with perhaps 
more force and emphasis than was necessary to 
maintain a Christian character, as follows: 

"Gentlemen, I am poor and struggling to 
secure an education. Now it would be madness 
for me to help destroy the apparatus through 
which I expect to be taught; furthermore, I have 
reached the present point in life without aid, or 
with very little countenance from any of you, 
and I think I can still get along in life without 
your friendship or countenance; so go ahead 
with your mischief and your expulsion." Hav- 
ing thus delivered himself he left them. The 
misehief was not perpetrated and the matter 
was never discussed afterwards. 

Dr. Mood regretted in after life that he so often 
chose brusque and decided methods of maintain- 
ing his views while in college, instead of taking 
more pains to propitiate the prejudices of his 
associates, thereby showing his true character 
in an unamiable and unnatural light. He inter- 
preted many things then in connection with his 
teachers, as well as his fellow students to have 
been prompted by his poverty or connection 
with a colored school, which afterwards consid- 
ering them in the clearer judgment of manhood, 
he felt persuaded was, in part, or altogether, 
imaginary. 



92 DR MOOD. 



In the meantime, John Mood, the principal 
in the colored school was arranging to give up 
his position, and the gratifying fact was devel- 
oped that William Mood felt called to preach 
the Gospel, and preparatory to that work wished 
to enter college. Then, almost, by natural suc- 
cession, Asbury Mood took his brother John's 
place as principal, and William succeeded As- 
bury as assistant. He entered college as the 
class rose sophomore. From that time on, 
through college the lives of these two brothers 
were closly interwoven, the younger always felt 
under great indebtedness, for the anxious care, 
supervision, assistance, and encouragement, as 
extended by the elder brother. 

Taking the more prominent position in secu- 
lar affairs, he was now frequently called on to 
conduct the young men's prayer meeting, which 
was still in active operation. He was also oc- 
casionally called on to pray in public, in the 
prayer meetings of the church. It seemed to 
be taken for granted that he would preach, and 
so not long after he had passed the mid-term 
examination of the sophomore class, just after 
the Christmas holidays, and at the begining of a 
new year, his father, without his solicitation, 
handed him a paper reading as follows: — 

"The Leaders Meeting of Cumberland Charge 
in Charleston, S. C, having recommended F. 



W COLLEGE. 93 



Asbury Mood, and I, believing him properly 
qualified, do hereby give him license to exhort. 

[Signed], 
Jan. 4, 1848. A. M. Forstek. 

He at once entered upon his duties, with the 
determination to magnify the office. To this 
end he arranged for regular appointments at the 
marine hospital, at the alms house, and at the 
jail. His early efforts were, no doubt, very im- 
perfect, but they were delivered without notes 
in deep sincerity, and after as thorough prepar- 
ation as his other duties would allow. 

His college life was marked with but few in- 
cidents or interruptions. A schism in the literary 
society, a warm discussion on the campus, a 
pointed argument in the military company, is 
the catalogue of occurrences out of the regular 
routine of work and study. 

Paul H. Hayne, the southern poet of celebrity, 
was his class-mate, and he has kindly given us 
the following reminiscences of him at this 
time: — 

"It was not until late in the second year of 
the course, that I became really acquainted with 
Mood's sterling character. Previous to this I 
knew him as a conscientious and fairly advanced 
student, holding an honorable, though not brill- 
iant position in his class; and as an amiable 
companion, with a certain gift of quaint humor! 



94 DR. MOOD. 



But an incident occurred about this period, at 
one of the meetings of our "college society," 
which foreshadowed what must afterwards have 
been a marked trait of his; (viz), his quiet tact, 
arid power of influence over others by the exer- 
cise of strong common sense, sharpened by 
irony. 

Our literary society, like the constituency of 
Eatonsville in the ' 'Pickwick Papers, " had be- 
come divided upon the question of a choice of 
president; and like these Eatonsville voters, the 
crisis was too momentous in their view to be 
settled quietly. Each party swore by its candi- 
date ! 

A turmoil ensued, which almost resulted in a 
serious fracas; but in the nick of time, Mood 
leaped upon his chair, and with an instinctive 
comprehension of the situation, made one of the 
most pungent addresses ever delivered im- 
promptu by a sophomore; an address so com- 
pounded of seriousness and humor, of good 
sense and a specious of rallying sarcasm, that 
the more violent became rather ashamed of 
themselves, and the storm was allayed. 

"There is more in that man," said I, sotto 
voce, "than I have hitherto imagined." 

Erom that day we became in many respects 
intimate. I learned to appreciate his quiet in- 
dependence of character, his high views of life, 



IN COLLEGE. 95 



his simple, undeviating conscientiousness; his 
loyal, affectionate nature and noble heart; and 
also the scope of an intellect, which never con- 
descended to mere showy display, because it 
was buttressed upon 'the rock of solid power, 
made the more effective by attainments as solid. 

"Searching the remote past, somewhat sadly 
and painfully, one other circumstance associated 
with our college life occurs to me. It is signifi- 
cant eno 1 in its way. 

A party of students were seated under the 
trees of the campus, and discussing the charac- 
ter of the professors. 

The opinions generally expressed were the 
reverse of charitable. Indeed if one was to ac- 
cept the verdict of these young moral icono- 
clasts the faculty must have been in a terribly 
bad way ! At length, the abuse becoming out- 
rageous, Mood, who was present, but thus far 
silent, could hold his peace no longer. "Well 
gentlemen," said he, very dryly, "bad as these 
persons are, according to your account, there is 
one thing at least you should remember." 

"What is that?" 

' 'Why that these unfortunate criminals are at 
all events our fellow-creatures! " Three years 
after I chanced to be reading a novel, just pub- 
lished, by an English writer, in which there is 
a scene that represents certain young officers of 



DR. MOOD. 



the English "Guards," smoking and drinking 
after dinner, and lavishly abusing, each one, 
his own father, for docking the "supplies." 

"Whereupon, one of them makes precisely 
the same observation with which our friend had 
rebuked his companions upon the college 
campus. 

"The coincidence struck me as singular and 
interesting. " 

Soon after entering upon his senior year, he 
made application for license to preach, and after 
passing the usual examination on christian ex- 
perience, doctrine and discipline, by a unani- 
mous vote of the Quarterly Conference, he was 
regularly licensed on September 11, 1819 — then 
in his twentieth year. 

In speaking of his first efforts in the pulpit he 
says: — 

"Soon after getting my license to preach, by 
invitation of Rev. A. G. Stacy, the pastor, I 
preached my first sermon at St. James Chapel, 
subsequently known as Spring Street Church. 
My effort, of course, was attended by all the 
excitement and trepidation likely to accompany 
such an event. I took for my text: — "And fear 
not them which kill the body, but are not able 
to kill the soul; but rather fear him which is able 
to destroy both soul and body in hell. Are not 
two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of 



ZZV COLLEGE. 97 



them shall not fall to the ground without your 
Father. But the very hairs of your head are all 
numbered." Math. XI ch., 28, 29, 30 vs. I 
preached extemporaneously, although greatly 
tempted to write and memorize or read my 
sermon. Not long after this, by invitation of 
the pastor I preached at Bethel on Sunday after- 
noon. This time I got along much better so 
far as my own comfort was involved. The third 
time I preached was at Trinity. There I held 
my membership. I was greatly alarmed and 
lost my self-possession almost completely. After 
the sermon, I walked home in company with 

my father; said he, "Mr. , was present, did 

you see him? " 

"No Sir." 

After a while he mentioned another, and 
another, with the same reply from me; at last 
he exclaimed! "Why my son, whom did you 
see?" 

' 'Nobody sir, but some black people in the 
front gallery." 

"This reply seemed to amuse nim very much. 

"Connected with the orphan asylum of the 
city was a tasty chapel in which the Protestant 
clergy of the city preached by turns, on Sunday 
afternoons. I received a polite note from the 
Superintendent asking me to officiate on a given 
Sabbath. This was to be my fourth attempt. 



98 DR. MOOD. 



Meeting the commissioners in the main build- 
ing, I was escorted in great form to the chapel. 
The organ — an addendum, of which Methodist 
churches were then innocent — played a voluntary 
as we entered. My appointment, as was cus- 
tomary, had been announced in the city papers. 
When I arose, before me sat several of the 
faculty, and a number of the college students. 
I lost my self-possession entirely, and I have 
never recalled, to this hour, what I then said. 
As soon as I had finished my sermon, I fled 
home, disconcerted and distressed. 

"Another trial awaited me. I was again in- 
vited to preach at Bethel. When I arose to 
read my text, just before me sat Bishop Capers, 
but the good Lord aided me, and I got through 
with less mortification. 

"Now as I look back, I feel very grateful, 
that despite my many occasions of .failure, I 
never took to manuscript, determined as I was 
to make an extemporaneous preacher if possible. 
I had no fluency in my early ministry, I was 
often at a loss for a word, and I hesitated and 
stammered so much, that on one occasion I re- 
member being asked, 'Whether my impediment 
in speech was natural or a disease." 

And so, the close of his college course was 
drawing on apace. His school and college life 
certainly had been abundant in labors. Every 



IN COLLEGE. 99 



hour had to be redeemed. The vacations, the 
time of relaxation for other students, must by 
him be devoted to study; for he must prepare 
in advance, some of the studies for the following 
term, so as to be able to continue his labors, and 
maintain his position in his class. During these 
years the only occasion of relaxation was the 
week at the camp-meeting, held every April. 

Is it to be wondered at then, that this young 
man looked forward, with glad anticipations to 
the hour of his graduation? That he longed for 
the coming occasion at which he would see the 
fond hope, for which he had so diligently 
labored, at last fully realized? The day came, 
February 26th, 1850, was the fourth great oc- 
casion of his life. With music and banners, 
and marshals and batons, the class escorted by 
the mayor, aldermen and college officials, was 
marched to the great Hibernian Hall. A 
crowded audience arose to greet them. The 
salutatory, the orations, interspersed with music, 
the baccalaureate address, the diplomas, and 
then the valedictory, were in turn delivered. 
Asbury Mood graduated with honor in a class 
of thirteen, which numbered among its members 
such men as Paul H. Hayne, Prof. John Mc- 
Crady of Sawanee College of Tenn., and Hon. 
W. K. Bachman, of Columbia, S. C. The sub- 
ject of his oration was: "Christianity an Organ 



100 DR. MOOD. 



of Political Movements." It was well received 

by the large audience, and a few moments after 

he reached home, he was waited upon by the 

editor of a literary magazine who entreated him 

to write for its pages. 

Thus the goal of his early life was reached. 

He was no longer under tutors and govenors, 

but a man: 

" The world before him, where to choose 
And Providence his guide. " 



CHAPTER VII. 

RETROSPECT, TEMPTATIONS. — THE DECISION. 

A reaction generally follows the excitement 
of graduation. A college education is not ar. 
end. Happy is the youth who maps out a life- 
plan upon entering college, and whose hands 
are tingling to begin his chosen vocation when 
he receives his diploma. It is too often the 
case, that not until this moment does the young 
man fully realize that there is an outer world. 
That in it he must assume a responsibility, — must 
bear a part; and then the question that has been 
pressing for some time on the parental mind 
now presses upon his own, "what shall he do?" 
A difficult question to be answered, for an edu- 
cation, received without a purpose, is but a fine 
and polished blade fashioned without design. 
It is true that the sword may be "beaten into a 
plow-share," but this is not the best way for 
making plow-shares. 

Asbury Mood had years and years before con- 
secrated himself to a life-work. Education was 
striven for, as a means. With him it is a sharp 
and cunning tool, full of purpose; and held in 
the firm grip of character. Fully equipped he 



102 BR MOOD. 



stands upon the threshold of a useful manhood, 
and from this eminence, can complacently look 
back upon his past life. He had been excep- 
tionally fortunate in his surroundings. The 
principal features and influences which tended 
to the development of his character were just 
such as were necessary to prepare him for the 
work in which he would engage. 

He was inestimably blessed in the example, 
instruction, and training of his pious, loving 
parents, as well as the elevating influences of 
all his home associations. Every member of 
the family, early became members of the church 
and grew up exemplary Christians. 

From his cradle he was a regular attendant 
upon public worship. He enjoyed in the city 
of Charleston, the constant ministrations of the 
ablest preachers in the connection. This, as an 
item of education, was invaluable to him. There 
he had the advantages of the best of pulpit in- 
struction in sound Methodist, or rather Scriptural 
doctrine, and in the history, customs, and pecul- 
iarities of that church, on whose altars he had 
consecrated his life and labors. He early dis- 
covered that the sermons of the preacher were 
full of instruction to any boy who would listen. 
He listened — "the seed fell in good ground, 
sprang up, and bore abundant harvests." 

He had the training of the class-meetings, 



THE DECISION. 10B 

and met in the same class with his mother. He 
heard her relate weekly, her experience; and 
with his knowledge of her daily 'walk and con- 
versation', her anxieties, trials and crosses, it 
gave him a view of the inner christian life, 
thereby causing him to place a high value upon 
things that otherwise he may have greatly un- 
dervalued; besides this, it early gave to him a 
lofty ideal of this Christian life, and increased 
his longings after that holiness without which 
no man can see the Lord. 

The shop and the office developed his mechan- 
ical skill and the practical turn of his mind, 
which proved invaluable to him in his subse- 
quent labors. He could handle tools success- 
fully, even using with dexterity that little 
instrument which the other sex claim is theirs 
exclusively to ply. He graduated wearing a 
corded standing shirt collar, of a new style, 
which with five others he had made during the 
week before. 

In his college life and the school days prepa- 
tory to it, much was forced upon him that in- 
duced self-reliance, and independence of charac- 
ter, which disregarded public sentiment so long 
as his conscience approved. Though his father 
dealt in precious stones and jewelry, the family 
grew up with a distaste, almost amounting to a 
contempt, for the personal use of such things. 



104 I)B. MOOD. 



They seemed naturally to seek the plain and 
simple in their attire, and to avoid ^ "The put- 
ting on of gold and costly apparel. " 

Reared in a city, his manners and perceptions 
were polished and quickened by contact with 
the activities, refinements and enlightening in- 
fluences of city life. 

His poverty, also, was to him a discipline, 
may we say an advantage ? One of the presi- 
dents of the United States said: "Poverty is 
uncomfortable, as I can testify; but nine times 
out of ten, the best thing that can happen to a 
young man is to be tossed overboard and com- 
pelled to sink, or swim for himself. In all my 
acquaintance I never knew a man to be drowned 
who was worth the saving. " By his labors he 
learned the value of money, and by his close 
economies how difficult it is to keep it. The 
consciousness had grown upon him that every- 
thing he hoped for in this world must be won 
by his own unaided force and. industry. He had 
acquired thrifty habits, self-helpfullness, self- 
trust. These are decided advantages, and pov- 
erty had given them to him. The industrious, 
methodical habits, habits of patient exactness, 
thus acquired, were the great secrets of his un- 
tiring labors, and explained how it was that he 
still accomplished so much in his latter days, 
when enfeebled by disease. With such bless- 



THE DECISION. 105 

ings, trainings, and advantages; with profession 
chosen and purposes fixed, the little school was 
for a short time to claim the entire attention of 
himself and his brother William, until it had 
brought them sufficient means for the purchase 
of a ministerial equipment, and enable them to 
enter upon the life of the itineracy with a mod- 
erate degree of comfort and independence. 

They at once changed the hour of recitation 
from the evening to the morning — and devoting 
their time more exclusively to the work, they 
had such large accessions as to require them to 
secure enlarged accommodations, to re-classify 
their school, and employ an assistant. W. W. 
Wilbur, who wished to enter the ministry, but 
being somewhat in debt, did not feel free to do 
so, took the position. 

The income now from the school was consider- 
able, so that at the close of the year the two 
brothers had been able to lay by enough to pur- 
chase a buggy with a good horse and harness, 
besides a very good sum of money, which they 
loaned to their father, thereby aiding him to 
purchase a comfortable home and business 
stand. 

William Mood obtained license to preach im- 
mediately after graduation. The two brothers 
were full of zeal in the ministry of the Gospel, 
and finding some leisure at their disposal, they 



106 DR. MOOD. 



arranged to fill regular preaching appointments 
at a number of places near the city. In their 
labors they did not forget the colored children 
under their charge, and as fruits of their efforts 
in the school, a powerful work of grace was de- 
veloped, causing a large number of the most 
advanced pupils to be converted and join the 
church, — some of these turned out to be leading 
men — men of prominence and influence among 
their people, and important trusts in both 
church and state were afterwards filled by them. 
When the colored school closed for the sum- 
mer holidays, Asbury Mood, for the first time 
in years found that there was no urgent de- 
mand upon his time. He really had a vaca- 
tion, and he determined to take a trip into the 
country both for recreation and entertainment. 
The tour extended through the upper part of 
South Carolina and a portion of Georgia, and 
was made almost altogether by means of private 
conveyance. During the trip he attended a 
number of camp-meetings, and enjoyed the ex- 
ceptional advantages of accompanying the vener- 
able William J. Parks, at that time a presiding 
elder in the Georgia Conference, on a consider- 
able portion of around on his district. He saw 
a good deal of country life that was new to him, 
and was initiated into many interesting items of 
itinerant life. It was on this jaunt that he, for 



THE DECISION. 107 

the first time saw and heard Rev. James Danelly, 
about whom so many rich anecdotes are related, 
and though struck with his peculiarities and ec- 
centricities yet some of the sermons of this stal- 
wart old preacher affected and impressed him 
deeply. 

After his return to Charleston and to his 
school labors, and just as the year was drawing 
to a close and with it the appointed time for the 
annual conference was approaching, a great 
temptation arose. 

The trustees of the colored school knowing 
that the teachers had accepted and used their 
offices mainly as a means for obtaining an edu- 
cation, and that this object had been accom- 
plished, they were informed that the young men 
intended entering the ranks of the traveling 
ministry at an early day; they determined, how- 
ever not to give up these teachers without an 
effort to retain them, for they were very anxious 
that the free colored youth of the city should 
continue under the instruction that had proved 
so acceptable and beneficial to them; they there- 
fore, in an interview with Asbury Mood and 
his co-laborers, besought them to continue to 
teach. They argued that teaching was a work 
to which ministers were often appointed; that 
great good had already resulted from their 
labors, showing that the Lord approved their 



108 DR. MOOD. 



work and that it was clearly their duty to re- 
main. Upon the young men showing some 
hesitancy, the trustees changed their tactics and 
solemnly warned them to look well to it that 
pride was not influencing their action and de- 
cision in the matter. Then they grew gracious 
and proposed to build a larger and more com- 
pletely furnished school-room, which would in- 
duce larger patronage and increased pay. 

The young men felt the force of these argu- 
ments. The temptation to remain at home with 
a liberal and certain income was very strong to 
Asbury Mood. The school paid one thousand 
dollars a year, and he would enjoy the associa- 
tions of home and the comforts of city life. If 
he entered the conference, the disciplinary allow- 
ance for a single man was one hundred dollars, 
if it was collected; then it was probable that he 
would be placed upon a hard and distant circuit. 
The matter of money was not the strong argu- 
ment with our young preacher, it was the dread 
of tie circuit work, the constant preaching, the 
contact with strangers, and above all, the long 
and lonesome rides between appointments. He 
was used to the city, the school-room, to his 
peculiar work and so the temptation to remain 
in it, grew stronger and stronger day by day. 

The trustees pressed the matter, plans were 
submitted and proposals for the new school-house 



THE DECISION. 109 

were sought and carefully considered, but the 
peace of mind of Asbury Mood began to be in- 
terrupted. He looked into his own heart, and 
saw and felt that the argument for doing good 
was not really the one that was weighing the 
heaviest with him, but it was the love of home 
and ease, and the associations so dear to him, 
that were prompting his action and decision. 
So he tore away the frail fabric of selfish logic, 
and determined to execute that solemn vow 
made on his knees at that memorable prayer 
meeting, eight years before. Wilbur yielded to 
the snare. He determined to remain, teaching 
the colored children, as he argued, in a mission- 
ary capacity — and he never entered upon the 
regular work. He married, and after a tremen- 
dous struggle with his convictions, gave up his 
license to preach, left the church, finally lost his 
reason and became an inmate of the South Caro- 
lina lunatic asylum. 

Bishop Andrew had advised that as the South 
Carolina conference was comparatively small in 
numbers, and, as he expressed it, he "expected 
all of the brothers to do well" that all four of 
them should not join that body, because, in 
some respects, they might be in each other's 
way. 

About this time, the interest of the church in 
the China mission was being awakened, and As- 



110 DB. MOOD. 



bury Mood, in the highest spirit of consecration, 
and after carefully and prayerfully considering 
the matter offered himself for that work. 

At the reception of a favorable answer from 
the Board of Missions, he began at once to make 
preparations for leaving home, for the long 
journey, and for entering upon the life work in 
that heathen land. He was deeply in earnest, 
he had offered himself, he had been accepted 
and he meant to "^0." 

Bishop Andrew's annual visit to his home, 
however, changed his plans. The Bishop 
took him aside and told him, that although he 
was not aware it, if he carried out his intention 
of going to China, it would take his mother's 
life. He was the youngest son, he had special 
claims upon her, and he had better abandon the 
step. The Bishop then took the matter in hand 
himself, and stopped the China movement. He 
then urged the claims of Texas upon the 
brothers, but advised that they wait a few years 
before going into that field, evidently thinking 
that their mother would not live long. 

Shortly after this an urgent call was^made for 
missionaries to California. After talking the 
matter over it was finally arranged that John 
and William were to remain in South Carolina, 
and Henry and Asbury were to go to California. 
Bishop Paine, who had charge of the work, was 



THE DECISION. Ill 

at once written to, and the offer made. The 
brothers were promptly accepted and ordered 
to hold themselves in readiness to start at a 
given date. They soon had their trunks packed 
— trunks by the way of their own manufacture, 
and which did good service for years afterwards 
— and were awaiting the order to move, when a 
letter came from the Bishop stating that there 
were numerous volunteers for California, and in 
the western conferences there was some dissatis- 
faction because South Carolina seemed to be 
preferred in apportioning missionary work. He 
then asked that the two brothers give way 
for two western men named in his letter. Of 
course they could not do otherwise. 

Rev. Leo Rosser, just at this time was on a 
tour in South Carolina, raising funds for a church 
in Alexandria, Va. He eloquently persuaded 
the brothers that Virginia was the place where 
they were most needed, William and Asbury at 
once concluded to enter the Virginia conference. 
Once more Bishop Andrew interposed advising 
them to join their own Conference and then 
transfer to Texas. So after all William and 
Asbury applied for and secured recommenda- 
tions to the South Carolina conference that was 
to meet in Wadesboro, North Carolina, in 
December, 1850. A short time before confer- 
ence, Dr. T. O. Summers, then editor of the 



112 BE. MOOD. 



Southern Christian Advocate, invited the two 
young men to take tea with him. They had 
spent a pleasant hour with Mrs. Summers when 
the doctor came in. 

"Well," said he, "boys I am glad to see you, 
and am sorry I have been so long detained at 
the Advocate office. I have a question to ask 
you, and as Billy is the younger I will ask him 
first." 

"Beg pardon sir," interrupted William, "I am 
not the younger." 

"Oh yes, you are." 

"No sir, I am not, Asbury is the youngest of 
the five sons." 

"Well, well, I have always understood that 
you were the youngest. I suppose I have al- 
ways thought so because you were the littlest. 
Well Asbury, answer me: are you a goose or a 
swan? 

His wife interposed: "Mr. Summers, I would 
not ask these young gentlemen a question like 
that." 

"Why not?" 

"It sounds to. me rude, and you may hurt their 
feelings." 

"Hurt their feelings, hurt their feelings," he 
repeated, ' 'I know wife, who I am talking to, 
and they know me. Come, Asbury, answer 
me, are you a goose or a swan? " 



TEE DECISION. 113 

Asbury was confused, but finally said: "I 
know, doctor, you are going to give me a box 
about my ears — on what side it is to hit me I 
don't know; but I don't know what I am." 

Then looking at William full in the face, he 
asked: "Billy, are you a goose or a swan?" 

Like Asbury, he said, he could not tell. 

"Well now," said the doctor, "you have both 
been recommended to the South Carolina Con- 
ference, and when Bishop Paine calls for appli- 
cants for admission, Brother Betts will reply, 
"I have two from Charleston District, Wm. W. 
Mood, and F. Asbury Mood." He will tell the 
Conference your ages; he'll speak of your 
health, of your early piety, of your educational 
advantages; he will tell the Conference that 
your father was once a member of the Confer- 
ence; that your grandmother McFarlane used 
annually to make Bishop Asbury's suit of black 
cloth, etc. etc. He'll say a good many things 
about you, but remember you are out of doors, 
you don't hear any of it. But some smarty — 
for there are always some smarties to be found — 
will say, "Why is that all Brother Betts is go- 
ing to say about those Mood boys? A great 
deal more ought to be said," and he'll say his 
say. Then some other smarty remembers, on 
looking around, that you have not heard all 
these nice things, and he'll slip out and tell you 



lli J)R MOOD. 



all — and yoiCll listen to Mm. Then you'll come 
into the Conference room, and throw out your 
feathers, and strut, thinking you are swans — 
but I tell you, you are only ordinary geese," 

Young preachers, at this time, were not re- 
quired to be present on the occasion of their ad- 
mission on trial. William Mood attended Con- 
ference, Asbury was taken quite ill just before 
the time for starting, and he had to remain at 
home. Traveling in that day was mostly done 
by private conveyance, so it required several 
days after Conference adjourned for the news of 
its action to reach Charleston. The absent 
brother was anxiously watched for. In due 
time he returned and joyfully informed Asbury 
that their application for membership was favor- 
ably considered, and that they were admitted 
on trial, and assigned to adjoining circuits, 
Asbury to Cypress circuit, and he to Orange- 
burgh circuit. 

A day or two after. the arrival of the news 
from Conference, Bishop Paine arrived ia 
Charleston, and while there sent word to the 
young itinerant to come to see him. He found 
the Bishop clothed in all the dignity of his posi- 
tion, but kind and sympathetic as a father. "I 
have sent you to Cypress circuit to be near 
your parents," said the Bishop. "You are the 
youngest son, the baby; it pains your mother to 



THE DECISION. 115 



give you up; you must therefore come down 
and see her often. Spend your rest days with 
her. If anybody objects to your doing so, tell 
them the Bishop required you to do it." Then 
followed some excellent advice. This was kind 
and thoughtful in Bishop Paine. Asbury Mood 
was not yet twenty-one years old — slight in per- 
son, beardless and boyish-looking, and he had 
no reason to expect this display of confidence in 
his discretion. But if the Bishop did not know 
the boy, he knew the mother. He felt that un- 
der her supervision and encouragements the son 
could not go far wrong. So he put him near 
his mother, not only for this supervision, but 
also because he felt, that to a mother who had 
furnished four sons to the ministry some con- 
cessions should be made to her mother's heart. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

THE CIRCUIT RIDER. CYPRESS CIRCUIT. 

The day soon arrived when he must start for 
his work. A snug buggy and a claybank horse 
had been purchased. He had nothing to do in 
the transaction, except pay the bills, for he 
knew very little about either a horse or a buggy, 
and really did not understand how to hitch the 
two together. His oldest brother's route to his 
own circuit lay some twenty-five miles on the 
same road that he was to travel. It was there- 
fore arranged that they should start together. 

The tearful good-byes, and the parting bene- 
dictions of father and mother were soon over, 
and with a heavy heart and a heavily loaded 
buggy, he turned his back upon the stir and 
bustle of Charleston, and was soon amid the 
silence and sand of the low country. The cheer- 
ful conversation of his brother kept up his spir- 
its pretty well until late in the evening, when it 
began to grow dark. They were expecting to 
spend the night at the house of a good Meth- 
odist lady, who lived within the bounds of Cy- 
press circuit and whose husband had been one 
of the early missionaries to the blacks in South 



118 DR. MOOD. 



Carolina — but they lost their way, so that it was 
rather late when they reached the house; here, 
however, a bright fire and a hearty welcome 
soon dispelled the gloom that had clouded his 
spirits. 

He parted with his brother the next morning, 
with a heavy heart filled with gloomy forebod- 
ings, for he thereby severed the last link to his 
home, and set himself adrift in the life of the 
itinerancy. He took an early start, for a long 
and lonesome road lay before him; he had forty 
miles to go through dismal piney woods. It 
was a gloomy winter's morning, and as he rode 
on, greatly depressed by his thoughts, the 
solemn moan of the wind through the lofty pine 
tree-tops, sounded like the dirge of all his earthly 
hopes. 

Mr. Benjamin Crook, u the plan" stated was 
class-leader at Ebenezer, the churches on Cypress 
circuit .had orthodox Scriptural names. His 
first appointment was at this church, the next 
day at eleven o'clock, Mr. Crook's house, then, 
was the first point to be reached. He knew the 
number of miles to this place and he had been 
given the directions. But he did not know how 
to correctly measure distances. He had no just 
conceptions of miles nor the time consumed in 
traversing them. He had not yet learned how 
to follow out given directions, and the experi- 



CYPBMSS CIRCUIT. 119 

ence that he and his brother had the night be- 
fore, in missing the road and getting astray, 
imparted to him a tormenting fear lest he should 
turn out of the right road and get lost. He had 
not gotten over the childish dread of being lost 
in the woods. 

About midday he reached a neat farm house 
with out-houses, garden and orchard, suggestive 
of industry and thrift. As he rode up he saw 
standing near the front gate a well-fed and sub- 
stantial looking farmer dressed in brown home- 
spun. He formally bowed and timidly asked 
his way to Ben Crooks. The old gentlemen 
squared himself for a good talk, — while the 
young preacher, in terror lest he should get lost 
and not reach his destination before night-fall, 
grudged every moment of time, — leaning back 
the old man commenced very deliberately. 

"Ben Crook? — there are two Ben Crooks. 
Old Ben Crook, he lives right on this road, and 
then theres his son, young Ben Crook, he lives 
some two or three miles off of the road." 

The old man must be the class-leader thought 
Asbury Mood, so he replied: 

"I am hunting old Ben Crook." 

u Oh well you can't miss it; he lives about 
twenty miles beyond here right on the big road, 
— you have plenty of time. What's the news in 
the city?" 



120 DR. MOOD. 



Rejoiced to know he had come so far on his 
days journey, and anxious to complete it, he 
hastily replied, "No news," and whipping up 
his horse he pressed on. Little did he then 
know the impression he made on the old farmer, 
which, a few months afterwards he found to be 
anything but favorable. 

"Old Ben Crook's" was reached in safety and 
in good time. There he found a plain, unlet- 
tered, but fatherly and pious old man, who with 
his wife gave the young preacher a hearty wel- 
come. He could hardly realize his position. It 
was new and strange to him to be no longer 
treated as a subordinate, but to have accorded 
to him all the courtesy due a minister of the 
gospel. After supper the interests of the church 
and circuit were, gravely discussed, Mr. Mood 
feeling deeply his ignorance and inexperience 
in such matters. 

The next day, in company with the two old 
people, he went to Ebenezer Church. It was a 
cold, bleak, and dreary winter's day, but a small 
congregation had assembled, and he opened his 
itinerant pulpit labors from I Cor., X. 12: "Let 
him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he 
fall." The sermon was delivered under much 
embarrassment, and it seemed to him that this 
first effort fell on the hearers, as cold as the 
winter's mist that was falling and freezing out- 



CYPRESS CIRCUIT. 121 

side. As he came out of the pulpit, his heart 
full of misgivings, a pleasant faced, square built 
man, came up with a smile, and shaking his 
hand warmly, invited the preacher home with 
him. They were soon at a snug farm house, 
with a bright fire on the hearth, and warm hearts 
to cheer and encourage him. That night at 
David Connor's left an impression in his heart 
that was fresh through all his life. 

The next day he preached at Shiloh, which he 
reached in due time, although he had to cross 
Buck's swamp, where at one place the water was 
so deep that it flowed into the foot of his buggy, 
and wet the many things that he had stored 
away under the seat. 

On Sunday he was to preach at a large and 
important appointment. It was called Jericho. 
He was carefully directed so th; t he reached it 
safely and in time. The day was bright and 
pleasant, and a full congregation greeted the 
new preacher. Here he met his. senior, Rev. 
John W.Kelly, an old acquaintance and friend of 
the family. This fact, with the surrounding 
circumstances cheered him very much, so that 
he preached with more satisfaction to himself 
than he had ever before done. 

After preaching at Jericho on that memorable 
Sunday morning, he took dinner with one of the 



122 DR. MOOD. 



brethren, and then went over to Jerusalem where 
he preached that afternoon. 

On the next day he met Mr. Kelly, and the 
stewards at the parsonage, and the arrangements 
for the support of the preachers were made. 
He, however, was not called to be present at the 
meeting, so he loitered around, while this busi- 
ness was being completed. In that day the 
junior had very little to do with money matters. 
If the entire quarterage was collected, then the 
junior got his full pay, if not, he shared with the 
senior in proportion to their salaries. 

No one thought of suggesting anything in 
connection with the junior. His stipend was 
fixed by the book of discipline, and there was 
an end of it. To tell the truth, Asbury Mood 
never gave the matter a thought. The money 
was the last factor in his estimate of an itinerant 
preacher's life. To escape the "woe" that hung 
about him, "if he preached not the Gospel," 
was what impelled him in the labors of his first 
year's ministry. 

It is needless to further pursue the details of 
the year's work. He had twenty-five appoint- 
ments, and it kept him in labors abundant to 
meet the demands upon him. 

A memorable event in his life occurred as he 
made the first round of his circuit. After filling 
one of his appointments, he staid with the class- 



CYPRESS CIRCUIT. 123 

leader, who was something of a blacksmith. 
His friend, while examining his buggy, dis- 
covered that the bolt to the singletree was bent. 
He proposed to straighten it, and taking it out, 
without heating it he hammered it straight, 
probably cracking it. The next day, Sunday, 
Mr. Mood had filled his morning appointment, 
and was on his way to the place where he was 
to preach that afternoon. He was closely 
wrapped, the weather being cold and rainy, and 
he had just left a narrow road, winding among 
the pines, and passed into the big "Old Orange- 
burgh Road" when the bolt snapped, and the 
singletree fell with a sharp blow against the 
heels of his horse. The startled animal dashed 
furiously off, jerking the reins from the hands 
of the driver and dragging the buggy after him, 
to which he was yet fastened by the new and 
strong breeching-straps. Rushing wildly on, 
he attempted to turn out of the road, when one 
of the fore wheels struck a stump, the young 
preacher was thrown out headlong, receiving 
several cuts and contusions about his face and 
body; the vehicle was a complete wreck, and 
his books and baggage were scattered all about 
him. How miserable and forsaken he felt while 
picking himself up from the ground and view- 
ing the surroundings. It was a favorable op- 
portunity and the Tempter came into his heart 



124 DR. MOOD. 



and took possession. "Now," he whispered to 
a doubting heart, "you ran before you were 
sent. God has cut your career short by a sol- 
emn warning, so you had better pick up your 
pieces, go home, and stay there." 

In the mean time a friend had caught his 
horse and come to his assistance. He was helped 
to a house near by, kindly cared for for that 
night, but the Devil still had possession of him ; 
so the next morning he went to the nearest rail- 
road station and boarded the cars for Charles- 
ton. He had been from home only about three 
weeks, but it seemed, under his labors, trials 
and anxieties, that he had been away for years, 
and had grown aged in the work. 

Surprised at seeing him, his mother rushed 
to meet him, and noticing that he was lame and 
bruised, she exclaimed: "Why, what is the 
matter?" 

"The Lord has put a stop to my preaching," 
he said, very solemnly, and then told of the ac- 
cident. She and his father reasoned and ad- 
vised with him. By their help he became re- 
assured. The old saddle bags, with which his 
father had just twenty years before traveled the 
same circuit, were drawn out from their long 
resting place, the mould and dust were carefully 
wiped from them, and he was told to take them 
and resume work. After spending two or three 



CYPRESS CIRCUIT. 125 

days at home, and gaining new strength from 
the rest and the counsel of his parents, he re- 
turned to his labors better prepared than ever 
to meet the coming trials of life. 

The most harassing feature of his first year's 
labors was the dread and reality of being lost as 
he threaded the labyrinthine intricacies of the 
4 'timber roads" in reaching some of his out-of- 
the-way appointments. These are roads used 
for hauling logs for the purpose of rafting to 
Charleston. They run in every conceivable di- 
rection through the piney woods, but an ex- 
perienced traveler has but little difficulty in dis- 
tinguishing them from the public wagon roads. 
The young itinerant, however, was not suffic- 
ently versed in the mysteries of traveling, to 
discriminate between them. To him a road was 
a road. Neither did he know the freedom of 
country life, nor how to approach strangers and 
enquire the way. He feared to intrude, and this 
fact was greatly in the way of his comfort, and 
also of his usefulness, for this retiring modesty 
was thought by the plain country-folk to be the 
result of city hauteur. 

He did not take kindly to the saddle bags, 
so after his mishap he resumed his travels on 
his circuit in a borrowed buggy. His next ap- 
pointment was Bethlehem Church. In order to 
reach it he was directed to go up the state road 



126 DR. MOOD. 



until he reached a large white dwelling on the 
right, then he was to turn to the right and take 
the "plain straight-forward road," which would 
take him to Bethlehem. He started early. He 
found the large white house as described, turned 
into the road as directed, and followed it for 
about a mile, when he found that the plain road 
turned short off to the left, while "straight- for- 
ward" was a dim, untraveled road leading into 
the woods. He was in a quandary. He stopped 
and balanced chances for some time. While 
puzzling over this problem of probabilities, he 
heard the distant sound of an axe. He alighted, 
taking his horse from the buggy he hitched 
him carefully, and guided by the sound, he 
found a negro splitting rails at some distance in 
the woods. Upon asking if the narrow, straight- 
forward road was the way to Bethlehem Church, 
he received the answer in true negro style and 
emphasis: "Yes sah, you keep dat straight- 
forrud road, and when you git clear out heay, 
you will beat about some fences until you come 
to a house, and dare dey will give you de rest 
of de way." 

He urged his horse forward and "beat about 
fences" all day, until about four o'clock in the 
afternoon, when worn out with fatigue, hunger 
and anxiety, he came up to a gate before a small 



CYPRESS CIRCUIT. 127 

log cabin; a young mother with an infant in her 
arms stood in the door-way. 

"Can you direct me to Bethlehem Church?" he 
anxiously inquired. 

"Why sir, have you come all the way out here 
to find Bethlehem Church? Sir, you are just on the 
edge of Santee swamp. Then beginning to give 
directions she said: "Go through our yard, and 
take that road yonder, about a mile from here 
you will come to a road going that away" mov- 
ing her hand to explain the direction, "and one 
going that away, you must not take them, you 
must take the other road going this away." 

He drove through the yard, and at the place 
found a labyrinth of roads out of which he could 
make nothing. He drove back to the house and 
begged the woman to let him take her to the 
place where she could point out the road, and 
then he would return her to the house. She 
would not consent, but with her babe in her 
arms she walked ahead of his horse, put him in 
the road and directed him to a house where he 
could get farther directions. He now urged his 
jaded horse on, and at about nine o'clock at 
night he found Mr. Warnock's, the place near 
the church to which he had been directed. Mr. 
Warnock's mother, who was known as mother 
Warnock, was a celebrity of Methodism in this 
section. As soon as the young preacher got 



128 DR. MOOD. 



into the house mother Warnock turned loose 
upon him in a severe tirade for missing his ap- 
pointment. He, however, soon appeased her by 
relating his troubles of the day. 

On this round he failed to find Railroad 
Chapel, and having an appointment for the next 
day, he could not stop to hunt it. This gave 
him much trouble of mind. On his second 
round he made a great and earnest effort to find 
this church. He started early and traveled 
hard. At about ten o'clock he found himself at 
the back of a large farm, and he halloed to a 
man he saw working in the field, the man came 
to him laughing, and to his surprise he found it 
was his host of the previous night. There he 
had been traveling hard for several hours to 
reach Railroad Chapel, and had returned almost 
to the place from which he had started. Mis- 
sing this appointment a second time was a source 
of added mortification, which was embittered by 
several messages conveyed, to him from the 
neighborhood, to the effect that, ' 'If he wanted 
to find the church he could have found it," and 
that, "his father always found the churches on 
Cypress circuit, and he could do the same thing 
if he would try. " He went on suffering keenly, 
but learning valuable lessons from his sufferings 
and his mistakes. 

On his third round he determined to be at 



CYPRESS CIRCUIT. 129 

fault in no particular. He got directions more 
specific than before and carefully mapped them 
out on paper. He took a sun-rise start, and 
pushed forward with more than ordinary speed, 
but soon he was hopelessly entangled in the in- 
tricacies of tun-timber roads. He determined 
to find a house and get farther directions. He 
soon reached a neat dwelling before which was 
a negro man at work. 

"Who lives here? " he asked. 

"The widow W ." 

"Is there a gentlemen in the house? " — know- 
ing how women give directions. 
"No sir, nobody but the ladies." 
"Can you direct me to Railroad Chapel? " 
He forthwith began in negro style a long 
rambling set of directions, out of which the 
young itinerant could make but little. But fol- 
lowing the directions as best he could he tried 
to pursue the given courses. He urged his horse 
to his utmost. He was due at the church at 
eleven o'clock. He traveled on until twelve 
o'clock, when he suddenly emerged into the "old 
Orangeburgh road," from which he had turned 
out of hours before. Utter despondency seized 
him. He turned his horse's head towards 
Charleston. He knew he could find that, and 
he wanted to quit his work finally and forever. 
But the recollection of the return of a circuit 



130 DR. MOOD. 



rider several years before from his appointed 
work, under similar circumstances, and the im- 
pressions made and left by the act, deterred 
him. 

What was he to do? The question was too 
great for the young preacher, and his feelings 
got the mastery. Throwing the reins on the 
dash-board he buried his face in his hands and 
wept bitterly. Absorbed by his trouble, and in 
this attitude of grief he did not hear the ap- 
proaching footsteps of a horse. Suddenly near 
him, a coarse voice rang out. "Why Mr. Mood 
what is the matter? " 

Quickly straightening up he replied hastily, 
"Nothing, sir." There sat on a horse before 
him, a*tall gaunt looking man, whom he was not 
conscious of ever having seen before. 

' 'Nothing! Why now that is very remarkable, 
that you are here in the high road crying like 
your heart would break and tell me nothing is 
the matter. " 

"Nothing that you would appreciate or under- 
stand." 

"Oh" said the stranger "I know more about 
you than you think. You are Mr. Mood, the 
young preacher in the circuit, 1 heard you 
preach over here at Murray's Church last Sun- 
day. Now tell me what is the matter." 

Mr. Mood, then explained the whole trouble. 



CYPRESS GIRCUIT. 131 

After hearing him through, the stranger on 
horseback said: "Why, where have you been 
traveling all day?" 

"Oh, everywhere." 

"But tell me, whose plantations or houses 
have you passed?" 

"My dear sir, I do not know — oh, yes, I did 

stop at the house of a widow W to enquire 

the way." 

"Ah ha!" said the old man, laughing uproari- 
ously, "I understand it all now. You stopped 
at the widow's, had a fine time with the girls; 
and now here you are crying fit to break your 
heart because you can't reach your appoint- 
ment." 

Mr. Mood began to remonstrate, but he 
would not listen. "Don't tell me anything 
about it," he persisted. "I know you young 
Methodist preachers too well. I am not a mem- 
ber of the church, but I have been with the 
preachers enough to know all about them. " 

He then said that he was Major Gavin, and 
ceasing his bantering, he offered to guide the 
itinerant to his next appointment, which was 
kindly done, and when the class-leader's house 
was reached, his tall, gaunt-looking and face- 
tious old friend bid him adieu. 

It is but fair to the young preacher to say 
that he succeeded in reaching Eailroad Chapel 



132 DR. MOOD. 



at his fourth trial, by paying a negro a dollar 
to take him there, and never missed it after- 
wards; and that he not only redeemed himself 
in their estimation, but before the close of the 
year he had won the hearts of the people. 

On his first round he had made the acquain- 
tance of a number of persons who remembered 
his father as the circuit rider of twenty years 
before, and who honored the son for the father's 
sake. Among the number was Mr. Fralick, the 
class-leader of Jerusalem Church. While he 
gave to the young preacher a warm welcome to 
his house, he also gave him a long and warning 
lecture about the degeneracy of the modern cir- 
cuit rider, in traveling in a buggy instead of 
going on horseback as did his father. The old 
gentleman presented two objections to the bug : 
gy: first, he was too far away from the horse's 
head to hear him blow; secondly, having a va- 
cant seat beside him he would be always carry- 
ing the girls around with him. 

The first objection may have been well taken, 
for horseflesh no doubt suffered in his anxious 
hunt for churches on his first rounds; but he 
disappointed the predictions of his old friend 
on the second point, for although it was more 
than once arranged that he should take a young 
lady in his buggy, to or from church, yet he al- 



CYPRESS CIRCUIT. 133 

ways rendered a sound reason why he would 
necessarily be deprived of that pleasure. 

His horse and buggy, from the beginning, 
were a source of much anxious care. While in 
attendance upon one of the churches from which 
he proposed to go to Charleston to spend one 
of his rest days, he placed corn and hay in the 
foot of the buggy and tied the horse to one of 
the wheels that he might eat at his leisure while 
the services were being conducted. He ascended 
the pulpit and began the sermon. The buggy 
and horse chanced to be in full sight of the 
preacher, and when he had reached about the 
middle of his sermon, the horse having finished 
his meal laid down to roll. With no thought 
save that the buggy would be broken, he cried 
in the midst of an unfinished sentence: ( 'Whoa!" 
"Whoa!" and rushed down the steps of the pul- 
pit, and out of the church to the horse, declar- 
ing afterwards that he never thought of the 
ludicrousness of the act until he had reached the 
buggy. After securing the animal to a tree 
near by, he returned to the church and com- 
pleted his discourse. 

It was a source of great pleasure and* comfort 
to him, to visit Cypress Church regularly on his 
rounds. This chureh stood in the midst of the 
camp-ground. It was here that the memorable 
camp-meeting of his life was held. He hunted 



134 * DR MOOD. 



out the old tent where six years before God for 
Christ's sake had removed the burden of his 
sins. He reviewed the period passed over, and 
renewed his vows to try to live for God, and 
through his assisting grace to meet all the claims 
of duty which the ministry would impose upon 
him. 

Late in the spring he visited his brother Wil- 
liam at Orangeburgh, where he made the ac- 
quaintance of Rev. William Crook, the senior 
preacher on the circuit. This acquaintance with 
him and his family afterwards ripened into a 
warm and lasting friendship. 

In the fall he attended Indian Fields camp- 
meeting. On Sunday afternoon he preached the 
Missionary sermon. This was a notable occasion 
to him, being the first sermon he had attempted 
to preach on that subject, and the first time in 
his ministry that he was appointed to meet a set 
occasion. How well he succeeded, in the lapse 
of time had been lost sight of. He did not fail, 
and many a time since he has battled earnestly, 
valiantly, successfully for this cause that ever 
lay so near his heart, and to which on more than 
one occasion he offered his life and labors. 

It was at this camp-meeting that he met the 
old farmer, of whom he had asked directions to 
Ben Crook's, when on his way to his circuit. He 
was about to be introduced to him by Rev. Mr. 



CYPRESS CIRCUIT. 135 

Kelly, when the old gentleman broke out: "Oh 
I know him, and a nice fine proud city sprig he 
is. He passed my house last winter enquiring 
the way to Ben Crooks, and I told him as well 
as I could; but when I politely asked him what 
was the news in the city he just sung out, "No 
news," popped his whip and away he went. 
Why I knew his father when he preached on 
this circuit twenty years ago. If instead of act- 
ing that way he had just said, "my name is 
Mood, son of old John Mood, I am the preacher 
on the circuit," I would have been glad to have 
given him a hot dinner, but I had no idea he 
was a. preacher, fixed up as he was, and the way 
he treated me. I thought he was a collector for 
some big merchant in Charleston, and I was 
considerably puzzled to know what in the world 
a collector wanted with old Ben Crook. " 

It required many protestations to propitiate 
the old farmer; however, before the camp-meet- 
ing closed, he had to acknowledge that the 
3 T oung preacher had won him over completely. 

The last services held on the circuit were those 
of the Cypress camp-meeting. He preached the 
last sermon of the meeting, and the next morn- 
ing he returned, in his buggy, to Charleston, 
on his way to Georgetown, the seat of the an- 
nual Conference. 

The two great pleasures and encouragements 



136 DB. MOOD. 



in this year of trial were his sojourn at the 
parsonage of the senior preacher at the upper 
end of his circuit, and his visits home when he 
came down near Charleston. He was at the 
beginning of the year, a slave to duty. The 
long and fatiguing rides, the trials and annoy- 
ances to which his inexperience subjected him, 
especially his inability to follow roads, and 
therefore his being continually lost, made his 
work peculiarly onerous, and his burden of spir- 
it was so great that he was depressed nearly all 
the time. Yet in passing through these trials 
and troubles he learned a great deal. He had 
much of the stiffness and formality of his city 
life knocked off. He had become acquainted 
with country life, and had learned how to adapt 
himself to its habits. He had also acquired 
some skill in following directions, finding roads 
and reaching remote appointments. And above 
all, the precepts and examples of the untiring, 
devoted and zealous J. W. Kelly had given him 
an acquaintance with the duties and labors of 
an itinerant preacher's life, that years of asso- 
ciation with some men would have failed to im- 
part. His senior preacher of this year's labors 
was ever held in grateful remembrance. This 
kindly feeling was mutual, for Mr. Kelly, a few 
weeks after Dr. Mood's death thus wrote of 
him: "I was favored with his help as my junior 



CYPRESS CIRCUIT. 137 

on the great old Cypress circuit, then stretching 
over most of the ground from the city up to the 
vicinity of Orangeburgh, a circuit of twenty-five 
churches; a kind of break-wagon on which to 
train the young itinerant. I found him a very 
valuable helper. He was bidable, would do as 
I wanted him to do, yet was remarkable for in- 
dependence of thought and action even then, 
and I found it advantageous to consult him upon 
the gravest and most delicate interests of the 
work. He was utterly unselfish, full of brother- 
ly kindness and unremittingly devoted to study 
and to pastoral work." 

His college training enabled him to master 
the first year's course with ease, and then the 
constant preaching compelled him to apply his 
knowledge as soon as learned, thereby fixing it 
practically and deeply in his mind. In after years, 
when he had made education a special study, 
had looked into the workings of many semin- 
aries in the land, and had subjected the various 
systems to that severe but unfailing test — "by 
their fruits :" in speaking of his first year's 
ministry he said: "To this day I am convinced 
that it is the best theological training, for an 
active and successful ministry, known to the 
church." 



CHAPTER IX. 

ARNWELL CIRCUIT. 

"With a number of preachers, Eev. F. A. 
Mood, and his brother William, embarked in a 
steamer for Georgetown. They had a pleasant 
trip, and upon their arrival appeared before the 
Committee of Examination, who tested their 
proficiency in the books of the first year's 
course. 

His class was a large and intelligent one, and 
consisted of John Wesley Miller, Thomas Bay- 
ser, Charles O. Lamotte, William E. Boone, 
George W. Ivey, Joseph W. Faulkner, Daniel 
May, William A. Clark, James T. Kilgo, Will- 
iam W. Mood, F. A. Mood, eleven in all. Of 
the eleven, who on that December 8, 1851, met 
as the class of the first year, three have passed 
safely to the other shore; two remain active in 
the South Carolina Conference; two transferred 
to the North Carolina Conference with the trans- 
fer of territory to that Conference; two have 
located and one withdrew from the Conference 
and the Church. 

The class passed the ordeal and were con- 
tinued on trial. 



BARNWELL CIRCUIT. 139 

Bishop Andrew presided, and Kev. P. A. M. 
Williams was secretary. The Conference pro- 
ceeded rapidly and pleasantly. The people of 
Georgetown were most hospitable in. their enter- 
tainment of the preachers; and the magnificence 
of the dinners, with the frequency and profuse- 
ness of the oyster suppers impressed our young 
friend deeply, being in such great contrast with 
the simplicity of his own home, and the plain 
and often rough fare of his circuit life. 

"Where will I go next year?" was the great 
question that was constantly coming into his 
thoughts. He had not yet learned to regard the 
impending appointment, which was to close the 
Conference and open a new year of labor to him, 
with a proper degree of resignation, or even 
with a philosophical calmness. The thought of, 
for another twelve month, puzzling and perplex- 
ing over the mazes of piney woods' roads, almost 
terrified him, and reinvested his heart with 
the gloom that had hung about it through the 
entire year. 

When the appointments were read out, he 
found that his fears were groundless. He was 
sent to Barnwell circuit with Eev. Robert W. 
Crook as his senior. Rev. J. W. Kelly was 
announced as transferred to California. Of the 
brothers, Henry was sent to Graniteville, John 



140 DM. MOOD. 



to Society Hill Mission, and William to Sump- 
ter circuit. 

His old friend and school fellow, Osgood A. 
Darby had entered the itinerant work and he 
succeeded William Mood as junior on the 
Orangeburg circuit. 

As Barnwell and Orangeburg circuits lay in 
the same direction from Charleston, these two 
friends, Asbury Mood, and Osgood Darby, after 
bidding friends adieu started together for their 
year's work. Going some thirty miles the first 
day they stopped for the night at a house to 
which they had been directed. Darby was a 
green city boy, as his companion had been 
twelve months before. Riding up to the gate, 
it was late dusk, Asbury Mood hallooed in true 
country fashion. At this nothing could exceed 
the astonishment and mortification of Darby. 
" Why Asbury, " he exclaimed, "What are you 
about, to act that way? " He would have dis- 
mounted and politely rattled at the front gate. 
Asbury Mood had *done exactly that, to his 
mortification, the year before, and had learned 
a better way. Darby was greatly relieved when 
he saw how cordially they were received. This 
was Dr. Darby's first lesson in practical itiner- 
ancy. 

Darby was left at Orangeburg, and Asbury 
Mood continued his solitary way to Barnwell 



BARNWELL CIRCUIT. 141 



circuit. He preached to a small company at 
Jenning's Church. As there were no Methodists 
at Barnwell Court House, he was directed to go 
to Col. Brown's for entertainment. This gentle- 
man, whom he afterwards discovered was a dea- 
con in the Baptist Church, welcomed him most 
heartily, and so effectively advertised the ap- 
pointment of the new circuit rider, that a good 
audience greeted him at the Masonic Hall. 

His next Sabbath's appointment was at Black- 
ville, where he was referred to Dr. Fishbarne, 
whom he found to be a genial, intelligent, and 
cultured Christian gentleman; and here with his 
family, for he had three charming daughters, 
the young preacher found a pleasant and lasting 
friendship. On Sunday morning he preached 
with marked liberty and acceptability to his 
hearers. 

His spirits already were much more cheerful 
than they had been the year before. He found 
his way to the different churches without diffi- 
culty. Rev. William Crook, with his lovely 
wife and family proved to be devoted, kind and 
sympathizing friends. At the upper end of his 
circuit by a divergence of a few miles he could 
enjoy the singular pleasure of visiting his brother 
Henry, at each round. In company with his 
brother he spent his rest days, and they were 
days of both rest and encouragement. Altogether 



142 DR. MOOD. 



he found much more pleasure in this work than 
in that of the year before. 

On this circuit was a commodious building, 
erected by ex-Governor James H. Hammond, 
who deeded it to the Methodist church, on the 
one condition, that regular preaching should be 
maintained there for the benefit of his blacks, as 
his plantation with a large number of slaves was 
near at hand. The governor insisted on the 
preachers staying at his house, on their rounds, 
where the most lavish hospitality and kindest 
attentions awaited them. Mr. Mood, at first 
felt awed by the majestic intellect, and splendid 
attainments of this man, he found him so simple 
and unassuming in his manners that he was soon 
at ease in his presence, where he was ever 
treated with all the grave consideration of an 
equal. Though an irreligious man, he never, 
except on one occasion, manifested it in an open 
way in the presence of this young preacher. 
This was at his first visit. He preached unde^ 
some embarrassment owing to the presence of 
Governor Hammond, the fame of whose learn- 
ing and eloquence was national. At the close of 
the services the governor hastened to the pulpit, 
introducing himself he complimented the sermon 
and claimed the preacher for his guest. At the 
dinner table however, he used a profane expres- 
sion. The young preacher was in an awkward 



BARNWELL CIRCUIT. 143 

position. Here was a great man, — a United 
States Senator, and he his guest — a boy in years 
and incomparable in attainments, position, or 
reputation; but he was a preacher and would 
necessarily be thrown often into the society of 
this man who had the reputation of being very 
profane. If he allowed this instance to pass un- 
reproved he would probably in future be fre- 
quently subjected to like mortification. Then 
the dignity of the ministry was in his keeping 
and must be maintained. Besides this, the force 
of his mother's example and training was upon 
him — to rebuke wrong, wherever found, without 
fear or favor, — so he could but meet the emerg- 
ency and he, at once, protested against the use 
of such language. This was sufficient. The 
Governor promptly apologized in the most am- 
ple manner, and this was the single occasion of 
its occurrence. Indeed at the last visit of that 
year, upon the overseer's using profane language 
in Mr. Mood's presence the Governor promptly 
and indignantly silenced him. 

During the spring of that year, he attended 
the Charleston camp-meeting, memorable as 
being the last held — the buildings shortly after- 
wards being destroyed by fire — as well as from 
the fact that two of the great lights of the M. 
E. Church South; Kev. Dr. Lovick Pierce, and 
Rev. Dr. H. B. Bascom, assisted in the services 



144 DR. MOOD. 



— Bishop Capers, Eev. Dr. W. M. Wightman, 
Rev. Dr. Whitefoord Smith were also present 
and preached. It was a feast indeed. Dr. Pierce 
preached from Colos., 2 ch., 19 vers. "And not 
holding the Head, etc." Dr. Bascom on Friday 
from Matt. 28 ch., 7 ver., "He is risen," and 
on Sunday from II Cor., 8 ch., 9 ver., "Though 
rich, he, etc." Still with all the eloquence and 
ability present not a conversion was reported, a 
signal proof that it is not always where the 
greatest minds are gathered that the greatest re- 
sults follow. 

Late in the spring a gracious revival of religion 
was developed at Blackville; a large number of 
young persons joined the church, professing 
conversion. The Sunday-school interests here 
were greatly quickened and enlarged. During 
the fall Mr. Mood attended two camp-meetings 
where he preached with so much ability that he 
was at once marked as a rising young man in 
the conference. 

In writing of the close of this year's labors he 
relates the following interesting incident: 

"My last appointment on the circuit was at 
Elizabeth Church, near ex-Governor Ham- 
mond's. He had only a short time previously 
lost his son Charles, a promising boy of four- 
teen. He and his wife were very sad. On Sun- 
day evening, while seated with him and his 



BARNWELL CIRCUIT. 145 

wife, in his library, he asked me to sing. I got 
x hymn book and sang: "I would not live 
alway." 

"Getting up from his seat the Governor paced 
the floor, and when I ceased singing he stood be- 
fore me and looking me in the eye, he said: 'Mr. 

Mood, do you know if Rev. Mr. , had done 

his duty to me I would have been a Methodist 
preacher to-day.' 

"I was surprised and asked him in what Mr. 
, had neglected his duty? " 

"Sir, said he, "I was a student at the college 
at Columbia. He was the eloquent and admired 
pastor of the Methodist Church there. I was 
impressed, convicted you would say, by his 
ministry. But although I was always present 
to hear him, he never spoke to me privately. A 
word from him would have decided me. A 
camp-meeting came on at Fort Granby, below 
Columbia, I determined with my room-mates to 
go. They went and were converted and joined 
the church. I was taken sick the day before 
they started and never got there — and it all 
passed off from my mind." 

"I defended the preacher on the ground that 
the Governor was then young and spirited, and 
the preacher likely hesitated to speak to him 
from fear of driving him away from his ministry, 



146 DR. MOOD. 



well knowing how sensitive some young men 
are on the subject of religion. 

"Yes, yes," said he, "Sometimes I am tempted 
to believe in predestination, a doctrine I abhor. 
I fear it was decreed that I should never be 
religious." 

"I was deeply moved forgetting entirely the 
disparity of years, learning and position between 
us, I began an earnest exhortation to him: "Oh" 
said I, ' 'Say not so, there is no decree against 
you. God invites. He loves you still. It is 
now a day of salvation." 

Turning suddenly and sternly to me he said: 
"Don't talk that way, sir, to me. Look around 
you, sir, see this great plantation; see my 
wealth; see the claims of the public upon me 
Sir, it is too late. I have no time to give atten- 
tion to religious matters. Let us drop the sub- 
ject." 



CHAPTER X. 

STATION PREACHER. 

The Conference for 1852 met at Sumpter. 
Rev. F. A. Mood with his three brothers and 
Dr. Summers were assigned to the same house. 
To this company was added the delightful pres- 
ence of his father who came up, late in the ses- 
sion to witness the ordination of Asbury and 
William to the order of deacons. The session 
passed delightfully, the weather was propitious, 
the attendance of preachers was full, and perfect 
harmony prevailed. 

Rev. F. A. Mood, by appointment, preached 
on Thursday afternoon. His text was from 
II Timothy, 1 ch., 10 ver. The sermon was 
peculiarly fitted to his hearers and the occasion; 
and he preached it with much power and effect. 
His brethren in the ministry listened with deep 
interest to the young probationer, and at once 
accorded to him, a high position in their body 
as a preacher. 

On Sunday he was ordained deacon by Bishop 
Capers. The appointments were to be announced 
on Tuesday — the last day of the session. An 
immense audience gathered on this final occasion. 



148 DB. MOOD. 



After the usual address the Bishop proceeded 
to read the appointments. When he reached 
the town of Sumpter on the list, he paused, — 
pushing his spectacles up on his forehead he 
looked with his lovely and benevolent smile over 
the silent assembly and said: 

"Doubtless, my friends, you are curious now to 
know whom I have sent you. Well, when you 
see him, some of you may exclaim, "Bishop, 
you have sent us a boy." "To such I will say, 
as Bishop McKendree said years ago to a com- 
mittee sent out from Nashville to remonstrate 
against the appointment of a young preacher 
the Bishop had sent to them. ' 'Why, " said one 
of the committee, "Bishop you have sent us a 
boy!'' Said Bishop McKendree, emphatically, 
"Our boys are men!" 

Lowering his spectacles and taking up his 
paper he read: "Sumpter Station — F. Asbury 
Mood." 

The young man was astonished and very much 
embarrassed, for many in the audience were 
peering about to find out the "boy" that the 
Bishop had pronounced "a man." 

A handsome little lady in black with a very 
pretty daughter near her, had pointed out to her 
the new preacher. Taking a good look at him, 
she exclaimed, "He is a boy indeed! What 
good can Bishop Capers expect a child like him 



STATION PREACHEB. 14£ 

to accomplish in this town?" This lady had 
known Bishop Capers from his boyhood, he 
having studied law in her father's office, and for 
this reason she no doubt felt free to criticize his 
action. But we will have occasion to speak of 
her hereafter, where it will be seen how much 
this appointment affected her subsequent life. 
As soon as Conference adjourned, the young 
station preacher received a message from the 
Bishop, requesting him not to leave Sumpter 
with the body of the preachers the next day, 
but to come to his room as soon as convenient, 
as he wished to talk to him about an important 
matter. Accordingly he called the next day 
where the Bishop was stopping. Taking him 
by the hand and leading him into the parlor, 
the Bishop carefully closed the door, and then 
proceeded to disclose some astonishing facts. 
He said that the church of Sumpter was on the 
eve of a deadly and fatal schism. That it was 
not in the power of man to avert it. A vener- 
able member of the church had been charged 
with a flagrant crime, conviction of which might 
hang him. This man was one of the pillars of 
the church, indeed he was the oldest, wealthiest, 
and most influential member of the body. His 
near relatives, constituted about one-half of the 
membership. If tried by the church they had 
declared their intention to withdraw their names 



150 DR. MOOD. 



from the register. If not tried, another large 
portion had declared their intention to with- 
draw. 

Said the Bishop: "My son, keep your own 
counsel, be careful of what you say, or how you 
express opinions. Pray a great deal, and when 
the rent occurs, heal the torn edges to the best 
of your ability." Bishop Capers knew some- 
thing of the judgment, tact, and piety of this 
young man, and with this advice, acting under 
the guidance of Providence, as subsequent 
events developed, he left Sumpter Station in 
charge of F. A. Mood. 

The first step was to call the Board of Stew- 
ards together to arrange a place of board and 
settle other business matters, before going to 
Charleston to dispose of his buggy and horse. 

At this meeting, called the Thursday following 
the adjournment of Conference, the state of 
feeling in the church became painfully mani- 
fest. Mr. , the cause of the threatened 

schism, a steward, class-leader, trustee, superin- 
tendent of the Sunday School, and chorister, 
arose and said, "Brother Mood is already at my 
home. It will be pleasant to have him remain 
with us. It shall cost the church nothing, and 
I place at his disposal my carriage and horses, 
and a pony with which to visit his flock in the 
country." Unwilling to have their preacher 



STATION PREACHER. 151 

domiciled with a man, who was suspected of 
crime, another, and another, and another of the 
board made substantially the same offer. By 
his decision in the case he felt that he would in 
a measure be aligned with one faction or the 
other. If he left it to the board, which was 
about equally divided, there might be an unseemly 
wrangle without a decision, for each side seemed 
jealous of the other in even the smallest matters. 
He did the only thing he could do in the prem- 
ise; he prayed to God for aid and direction, 
and at once light flashed into his mind. When 
the last steward had spoken, he arose and 
thanked them for there generosity, deploring 
his inability to live with them all at once, which 
he looked upon as a great misfortune. He then 

said that he would remain with Mr. the 

first quarter, the second quarter he would spend 
with another member, from there he would go 
to Col. Lorings, and finally to Mr. Dingles, 
which being near the railroad station he could 
make a quick retreat, as he thought that by that 
time they would prefer his room to his com- 
pany. 

This suggestion, given with a touch of humor, 
solved the problem, and allayed all jealousies. 
The board readily arrived at a conclusion and 
adjourned with no unpleasant thoughts to brood 
over. 



152 DR MOOD. 



The week following the preacher entered upon 
his new, arduous and responsible work. This 
proved to be one of the remarkable, as it was 
one of the delightful, years of his life. Of 
indomitable energy, he was always ready for 
every good word and work. Of sound piety, 
yet irrepressible in spirits; of quick perceptions; 
a close student of books and of men, he at once 
arose equal to every demand upon him, and 
proved a growing preacher and a model pastor. 

Gaining the confidence and affection of Mr. 
he induced him to resign his offices. 



This greatly allayed the excitement in the 
church. When the next session of court came 
on the criminator asked for further time. In 
the interval the Bishop had forbidden Mr. Mood 
to attempt a church trial until the civil suit was 
ended, for by that means he would be put in 
possession of all the facts in the case. 

During the summer, however, an extraordi- 
nary work of grace was developed in the con- 
gregation, Beginning with the pupils of the 
Sunday School — for in this cause he was ever 
especially zealous — it extended gradually among 
the adults, and then to heads of families, until 
largely over a hundred professed conversion 
and joined the church. In the midst of this 
gracious revival of religion, the fall term of 
court came on. The counsel for the prosecution 



STATION PREACHER 153 

asked leave to withdraw the case, this was ac- 
cepted generally as evidence of the falsity of 
the charge, and the thunder-cloud which had 
threatened to burst suddenly over the church, 
causing disruption and disaster, rolled quietly 
and peacefully away. 

Just previous to the series of meetings inci- 
dent to. the revival, while visiting at the house 
of one his members, he met Mrs. S. W. A. 
Logan, a small lady, highly cultured and intel- 
ligent, having a keen black eye, and a very at- 
tractive face. She was the same lady who, on 
the day that he was appointed to Sumpter Sta- 
tion, had pronounced him "a boy indeed." The 
young pastor must have impressed her favor- 
ably, for the following Sunday morning she was 
at the Methodist Church on the front bench, 
and the next Sunday, and the next. The pro- 
tracted meetings began. She was present. At 
the first call for mourners, among the young 
persons, gathered around the altar was her 
beautiful daughter, who at a subsequent meet- 
ing professed conversion, and with a number of 
others joined the church on the following Sun- 
day morning. 

On the next day Mrs. Logan, accompanied by 
her daughter, called on Mr. Mood. She intro- 
duced her daughter as Miss Sue Logan. In a 
private interview she asked him to persuade her 



154 i)R MOOD. 



daughter to remove her membership from the 
Methodist to the Episcopal Church, which was 
her own church. This, of course, he could not 
do, and he so stated it. Then with tears in her 
eyes, she exclaimed, "Oh, sir, you have got the 
light of my eyes in your church. If she does 
not come to my church I must go to hers, I 
cannot be separated from her." Against this 
step he remonstrated, advising her not to change 
her church relationship. But on the Sunday 
morning following, Mrs. Logan came forward 
to be enrolled as a member of the Methodist 
Church, and by that body was received into 
full connection. 

There is one remarkable incident connected 
with this meeting that is worthy of note. A 
Mr. Alston, who was known to be a skeptic in 
religious matters, indulgently brought his two 
daughters to the Methodist meeting, the young 
ladies being actuated by no higher motive than 
that of spectators. A chance expression caught 
their attention. They listened further, and 
under the power of the preaching and the woo- 
ings of the Spirit, both came forward for prayer 
and both joyfully professed to have obtained the 
pearl of great price. Kejoicing in their new 
found treasure, they went, at once, to their 
father who was seated in the lower part of the 
church. Against their entreaties, added to the 



ST A TION PRE A CHER. 155 

promptings of his own heart, he could hold out 
no longer. Conviction seized him deeply. Pale 
and staggering, and supported by a daughter 
on each hand, he came to the front of the altar, 
and with solemn emphasis exclaimed, "Reverend 
Sir, pray for me. I am the greatest sinner on the 
face of earth!" The congregation was called to 
prayer. Many and fervent were the petitions that 
went up to the Throne of Grace in his behalf. On 
the next night he was powerfully converted, 
and for the first time during the meeting there 
was the noise of rejoicing. He shouted, clapped 
his hands, and sang aloud. This conversion 
made a great impression upon the town, and 
gave a marked impulse to the work, especially 
among the middle-aged. 

This year the preacher was happy, and his 
cup of joy was constantly overflowing. He was 
associated with a highly cultured, refined, 
wealthy and pious people. His brother William, 
who was on the Sumpter circuit, which lay 
around the town, was frequently with him, 
cheering him by his presence and assisting him 
in his protracted labors. He was honored with 
large audiences. The class meetings and the 
prayer meetings were well attended. And 
above all, God had vouchsafed his blessings to 
the labors of his hands, and constantly and 
graciously, in mercy, visited his heart. 



156 DR MO 01). 



His acquaintance with Mrs. Logan, and her 
charming and beautiful young daughter, had rip- 
ened into a warm friendship. She became a zeal- 
ous and devoted Methodist, and at the close of the 
year she was induced to attend the annual con- 
ference which met at Newberry. 

Bishop Paine presided over the Conference. 
Mr. Mood passed an approved examination in 
the studies of the third year, and was returned 
to Sumpter. His brother William, however, 
having been two years on the Sumpter circuit, 
was sent to Wadesboro. 

Another happy year to the preacher was spent 
at Sumpter. There was no marked religious 
movement, but the church was in a healthy 
spiritual condition, all the means of grace being 
well attended. During the year the Sunday- 
school was greatly enlarged, and a well selected 
and valuable library was added to its advan- 
tages. An eligible lot near the church was pur- 
chased and on it a substantial parsonage was 
built and comfortably furnished. 

In the fall Mrs: Logan with her daughter Sue, 
moved to Columbia, where she expected to 
make her future home. 

Just before conference Mr. Mood was hastily 
summoned to visit his brother William, who 
was dangerously sick with typhoid fever. When 
he reached the bedside of his brother he found 



STATION PREACHER. 157 

that the crisis had passed in his favor. "With a 
brother's devotion he nursed him back to health. 
As soon as his brother was able to travel he took 
him to Sumpter, where he preached his last 
sermon, from Jer., VIII, 20, "The harvest is 
past, the summer is ended and we are not 
saved." 

He left this people, so dear to him, with a 
heavy heart, almost borderir g onto despondency. 
Here he had been very happy — had formed 
many special and delightful friendships. But 
now, as h6 had served the limit of his time, he 
must sever his associations and seek other fields 
of labor. Here is one of the crosses as it is one 
of the powers of the Methodist itinerancy. 
Could he ever expect to be so pleasantly circum- 
stanced again? Ah! that was not the question. 
His was to preach the Gospel. This necessity 
was laid upon him, and he must go as he is sent. 

Conference met in Columbia; Bishop George 
F. Pierce presided. Bishop Capers was present 
also — sometimes presiding. Eev. F. A. Mood 
passed his final examination creditably, and after 
a sermon by Bishop Capers from Acts. XX, 28, 
"Take heed therefore unto yourselves and to all 
the flock, etc.," he was solemnly ordained an 
Elder in the Church of God by Bishop Pierce, 
and the laying on of the hands of the Elders. 

When the appointments were read, F. A. 



158 JDR MOOD. 



Mood was assigned to Marion Street Church, 
Columbia. William Crook, his old friend and 
senior on the Barnwell circuit was his presiding 
elder, and William A. Gamewell, one of the 
weightiest men of the church, was his coadjutor 
at the church on Washington Street. Mrs. 
Logan and her daughter, connecting themselves 
with Marion Street Church, was an added 
pleasure to his new work. 

While on his annual visit home, just after the 
adjournment of Conference, he chanced, in com- 
pany with his brother James to be passing Cld 
Bethel Church; noticing the door Avas open it 
was suggested they go in and again look at the 
interior of the old house. While walking 
through the aisles, recalling and conversing 
about the former days as they were connected 
with Old Bethel, a small door was noticed, 
which opened into the basement of the lofty pul- 
pit. Upon entering this place, they found quite 
a number of books which proved to be the earlier 
records of the Methodist Church in Charleston. 
Dr. James Mood suggested to his brother that 
from these records, and other sources, an inter- 
esting narrative of the events connected with 
the establishment and progress of the church in 
Charleston might be written. As the church 
was known to have been established in the face 
of opposition; to have out-lived many persecu- 



STATION PREACHER. 159 



tions, and to have survived two great schisms it 
was clear that the narrative need not be confined 
to the bare register of statistical facts. Dr. 
James Mood then urged his brother to under- 
take the preparation of this narrative. 

He secured the consent of the trustees to re- 
move the books to Columbia, and there com- 
menced the work in a series of articles written 
to the Southern Christian Advocate. This series 
continued through most of the year. Subse- 
quently the book editor, Dr. T. O. Summers, 
asked the author to revise the letters and arrange 
them in chapters, so that the work might be 
printed in a book for one of the Sunday-school 
series. This book, called Methodism in Charles- 
ton, is a valuable contribution to the history of 
the Church. It shows great care, painstaking, 
and research. Commencing with the visits of 
John and Charles Wesley to Charleston in the 
summer of 1736, it gives a succinct and circum- 
stantial history of the introduction and progress 
of Methodism in that city down to 1856, and 
tells much of the trials, the methods, the labors, 
the persecutions, and the necessary economies of 
the early Methodists. 

This little book was not without its fruits. 
There was quite a spirit of historical inquiry 
awakened by the letters. At the following 
annual conference, which met at Marion, the 



160 DR. MOOD. 



author drew up a paper inviting the members of 
the conference to unite in a Historical Society. 
Most of the preachers presented their names for 
membership, the society was organized, and has 
been from that day an active institution of the 
South Carolina Conference. 

Mr. Mood was returned to Marion Street 
Church, Columbia. This year was accompanied 
by nothing remarkable. Large congregations 
attended upon his preaching, and the spiritual 
state of the church was good. 

The hard work and excessive study that he 
had undergone for some years began to tell on 
him. During his first year in Columbia it was 
noticed that his health was failing somewhat, 
and in this second year, 1856, it became very 
poor. The malady developed into dyspepsia, 
and towards the close of the year he grew so 
feeble and emaciated as scarcely to be able to 
stand. The physicians urged upon him the 
absolute necessity of resting, at least a year, 
from the active ministry. Upon communicating 
this fact to Bishop Andrew, who was to preside 
at the ensuing session of the conference, he was 
pressed by the Bishop to follow the advice of 
the physicians, and spend the year in traveling 
abroad. Accordingly he began to make prepa- 
rations for visiting Europe, as he intended to 



8TATI0N PRE A CHER. 16! 

spend the following year in seeing many of the 
countries of the Old World. 

The conference granted him a supernumerary 
relation with permission to travel, and Bishop 
Andrew gave him a letter setting forth the facts 
and commending him to the kindness and fellow- 
ship of the brethren abroad. The money laid 
by while teaching the colored school, and which 
he had loaned to his father, to assist him in 
purchasing a home, his father was able to re- 
turn, the new location having greatly improved 
his business and general comfort. This sum 
amounted to one thousand dollars, and he felt 
sure that by judicious economy it would enable 
him to spend a pleasant and profitable year in 
European travel. 

The partings with his loved ones before enter- 
ing upon this long journey, and protracted ab. 
sence, were tender and affecting; but that with 
his mother was peculiarly touching, because she 
insisted, in spite of all remonstrance, often em- 
bracing her son and hanging upon his neck, 
that she would never see him again on earth. 
How prophetic did her words prove to be; for 
among the first letters received from America 
was one announcing her triumphant departure 
from the sorrows and toils of earth to the joys 
of the Christian Heaven. 



CHAPTER XL 

TRAVELS IN EUROPE. 

Of the year's travels, Dr. Mood left abundant 
records. He kept up a regular correspondence 
with two of the leading papers in South Caro- 
lina, and furnished them with such a number of 
long, readable letters, that if collected together 
they would form no mean volume. He saw 
what was to be seen, and knew how to tell it. 
He was a close observer and drew remarkably 
accurate conclusions from his observations. 

These letters are necessarily hurried sketches, 
yet they are full of instruction and sparkle with 
interest. 

It is not our purpose to do more than follow 
him afar off in these travels, and briefly jot down 
an impression, an opinion, or an incident as 
may be culled here or there from the records 
left of his journey ings. 

A bitter, cold morning, early in December, 
he clambered up the side of the packet, Emily 
St. Pierre, bound for Liverpool. After a brief 
attack of sea sickness, his health began to 
improve, and from the fourth day of that 
voyage he never again knew the sufferings of 



TEA VEL8 IN EUROPE. 163 

dyspepsia. The passage was rough and wintry, 
though uneventful. He landed in Liverpool 
Saturday night, January 10, 1857. Early the 
next morning we see him seeking a Methodist 
Chapel — "For somehow or other," says he, "I 
like for my first hours abroad to be spent there ; 
I wonder if it is bigotry?" 

While in Liverpool he fraternized with the 
Wesleyans, formed acquaintances among them 
that ripened into life-long friendships, met with 
them in social worship, and preached for them. 
Leaving Liverpool, he visited in succession 
Leeds, Bristol and London. In this great 
metropolis, he writes: "The place of most in- 
terest to a Methodist preacher is City Road 
Chapel. This house was built by John Wesley 
and recommended by him as the model building 
for Wesley an Chapels throughout the kingdom. 
Near it was the "Old Foundry" at which Mr. 
Wesley began his operations in London, and 
when, by the expiration of the lease, he could 
hold that no longer, he laid the foundation of 
this house in a building adjoining, which he 
made his home, as far as he had a home, and in 
which he died. The room where he breathed 
his last has been kept unchanged in its arrange- 
ment and furniture since his death. His tomb 
is just back of the chapel, where lie also the 
remains of Dr. Adam Clarke the commentator, 



164= DR. MOOD. 



and Dr. Kichard Watson, the theologian of 
Methodism." 

Of the Wesley ans he says: "An acquaintance 
thus far, with their ministers has impressed me 
most favorably. They seem to be a grave but 
cheerful and pious set of men. They always 
conclude their visits among the families where 
they go, after the Wesley an rule; that is with 
prayer. They commonly in their conversation 
introduce religious topics, which throws a de- 
lightful odor of sanctity around their social 
intercourse. They appear to cultivate learning, 
and their libraries, that I have seen, are filled 
with the most solid and massive literature." 

Of one piece of their church furniture he re- 
marks: U I do not know what our preachers 
who have such a horror of tall pulpits would do 
over here. The height of Old Trinity, or Bethel 
pulpit in Charleston diminishes before these. 
The galleries, to an American eye, appear very 
high; yet the preacher stands almost, if not 
quite upon a level with the front seat of the 
gallery. Interested and affected as I was under 
the first discourse that I heard, I voluntarily 
measured the height of the preacher from the 
floor when he exclaimed, "They build too low, 
who build beneath the skies." 

After spending some three months in England 
he set sail for France. His introduction proper 



TEA VEL8 IN EUROPE. 165 

to Paris was on Sunday morning, and lie thus 
speaks of the scenes that met his gaze while 
hunting for a house of worship: 

"The whole city was out before me, the shops 
were in their gayest dress, and so were all the 
people, some riding, some walking, and all ap- 
parently happy. Pressing through the crowd 
and turning into the Champs Elyssees, a bewild- 
ering scene of gayety, thoughtlessness and 
beauty met my gaze. The Tuileries, its beauti- 
ful avenues and spacious gardens, the Place la 
Concorde with its statues, obelisk and fountains, 
and then the long avenue of Elysian fields end- 
ing in the splendid triumphal arch, were all 
before me. And promenading, riding, and 
dancing and playing in every direction were 
thousands of men, women and children. Soldiers 
were marching, bands were playing, balloons 
going up, while all seemed as gay and happy 
as thoughtless hearts and splendid earthly 
scenes could make them. I cannot say whether 
surprise, grief or alarm was uppermost in this 
walk. Surprise at the splendor and beauty of 
the scene, grief at the entire forgetfulness of 
God, or alarm for the future of a nation which 
so universally ignored the Sabbath. But the 
place of worship was reached, and though it 
proved not to be a Methodist Chapel the services 



166 DR. MOOD. 



both morning and night were of gracious influ- 
ence to me. 

"Early the next week I sallied out determined 
if there was a Methodist in Paris I would find 
him. What was my surprise in stepping out on 
the street to see immediately opposite, over a 
chapel door, in large letters, Wosleyan Chapel. 
I cannot imagine how it had missed my gaze 
before. But language fails to describe the 
blessedness, the sweetness and sacredness of the 
following Sabbath to my heart. The day before, 
intelligence had reached me of the saddest be- 
reavement I had ever felt, and in the wonderful 
goodness of God, the whole service was exactly 
adapted to one in distress. It is a large chapel 
and was crowded; a handsome, intelligent young 
man was in the pulpit, who, after reading the 
Litany and other prayers, announced the text, 
' 'For I reckon that the sufferings of this present 
time are not worthy to be compared with the 
glory that shall be revealed in us." It was a 
plain, earnest, heart consoling discourse, and at 
the close, all members of orthodox churches were 
invited to unite in the sacrament. After service 
I presented a letter of introduction to Rev. Mr. 
Cook, kindly given to me in England, by whom 
I was introduced to Mr. Greeves, the minister 
who had preached, and Rev. James Hocart, the 
preacher in charge, in Paris. I would look back 



TEA VEL8 IN EUROPE. 167 

with pleasure always to my trip, if it were only 
to recall the inspiring feelings that passed over 
me when my hand was cordially grasped by 
these self-denying Methodist preachers of Paris. 

"You will preach for us to-night, won't you?" 

"Oh yes, 'Labor is rest,' sometimes." 

"Ah that is from Wesley." 

At night the chapel was again filled, I suited 
my text to my own feelings, thinking it would 
suit others. My heart was full — full of sadness for 
a dear one lost — full of gratitude for God's love. 
God's Spirit was with us. My tears flowed — 
our tears flowed; yes, in the very heart of wicked 
Paris, we sat "together in heavenly places in 
Christ Jesus. " At the close of services regular 
appointments were arranged for me during my 
stay, and I felt at home again, for I was once 
more a circuit preacher." 

After some two months spent in Paris, he was 
borne by railroads, steamers and diligence, — in 
company with a gentleman and two ladies, 
Americans, whom he had met in the French 
metropolis, — through France, over the Medi- 
terranean into the heart of Italy, — on to the 
eternal city. He was peculiarly fortunate in 
meeting with these Americans, whose delightful 
companionship added a decided interest and 
pleasure to the tour, and effectually robbed it of 



1(58 DM. MOOD. 



that ennui or irksomness, so apt to attend a 
solitary traveler in foreign countries. 

A beautiful incident of the last night's sail on 
the Mediterranean is related by one of this 
party. The full orbed moon rose over the 
waters of this bluest sea on earth, just after they 
had passed Ostia, at the mouth of the Tiber, 
where with a glass, in the dying sunlight, they 
caught a glimpse of St. Peter's Dome. The 
weather was soft and balmy. All had collected 
on deck. Two trained vocalists were among 
the passengers. They seemed to be very gay 
and frivolous. One, an Italian, sprang to his 
feet and sang some dramatic airs with much 
gusto; the Frenchman followed in the same 
spirit with some national melodies. Then all 
called upon the Americans for an American 
song. His companions looked to him and said, 
"Mr. Mood is our singer," pressing him to re- 
spond to the challenge. He sat quiet, not 
answering a word, and seemed to be in silent 
prayer. After a few moments he folded his 
arms, and looking upwards commenced singing, 
— "I would not live alway." The effect was 
electrical. One was melted to tears; all were 
deeply moved, and each one finally slipped away 
to his beth without wishing the usual good 
night. The wonderful impression made that 
beautiful night by the sweet singer of sacred 



TEA VELS IJST ETTROPE. 16§ 



song could never be forgotten. It really seemed 
that the presence of the Holy Spirit was there. 
After visiting Naples, clambering up the rocky 
sides of Vesuvius, and going down into the exca- 
vations of Pompeii and Herculaneum he reached 
Home just in time to witness the illumination of 
St. Peter's. This was but the beginning of 
shows, pageants and processions, which he wit- 
nessed while there. Everything bespeaks 
papacy. He says: "The cross that should be 
the glory and elevating influence to redeem the 
land, is really the badge of its servitude and 
helpless dependence. Three hundred and seventy 
churches are to be seen in Kome. The meanest 
of them surpass in splendor and costliness, the 
finest of American houses of worship. The 
cross is not only seen towering above their sum- 
mits, but above the custom houses, the barracks 
and the forts, above every portal leading into 
the city, and with anamolous appearance above 
every ruin and heathen temple in and near the 
city; though this cross towers at every point, 
and shrines to the Virgin confront you at every 
corner, the hallowing influence of religion seems 
not to be known. The Holy Father is despised 
for his pretensions, and ten thousand French 
bayonets are required to stand as a cordon of 
safety, to support his throne; the Sabbath is 
a day of frolic, and profanity, idleness and 



170 DM. MOOD. 



beggary are so rife as to appal the stranger." 
In speaking of the idolatry that he witnessed 
in this city, he says: "This worship of brass, 
and wood, and stone, and bones, is most pain- 
fully evident in St. Peter's Church, — the very 
heart and centre of Romanism. The bronze 
statue of Jupiter Capitolinus which is seated 
there, and called St. Peter, has ever before it an 
adoring multitude. The toe is worn away from 
the constant pressure of lips to which it is sub- 
jected. Last Sabbath afternoon we spent more 
than an hour before the statue, watching its 
worship. Priests in robes of scarlet, purple, 
white and black, in passing, bowed and knelt 
towards it, and then, with cold dignity, pressed 
their lips and foreheads to the bronze. Old 
men, tottering with age, bent their knees, and 
after its adoration, with palsied hands embraced 
it, and then they kissed it. Old women clutched 
it eagerly after a hasty adulation, as though 
eagerly embracing a long-lost child, or friend, 
and where we sat we could hear the eager kisses 
repeated a score of times. Often these old eager 
souls were so enraptured m their embrace of the 
cold brass as to detain the waiting crowd, who 
angrily pushed them away, in order to more 
quickly have their turn. Simpering young 
maidens in silks and satins, after carefully rub- 
bing and polishing the brass with their linen 



TEA VEL8 IN EUROPE. 171 



cambric handkerchiefs, to take away what 
might be unpalatable to their lips, touched the 
bronze lightly with fastidious mouths, and then 
lightly tripped away. Matrons, all gay in 
Italian costume, with haughty self-possession, 
knelt before it, and with impatience waited on 
the sluggard crowd, who pressed toward the 
statue; and nurses brought the children, who 
often resisted the command to kiss the foot, 
while others, with innocent looks, with tiny 
■hands embraced and kissed it. " 

After spending something more than a month 
in Rome, he went with his friends, by diligence, 
to Florence, thence by rail to Venice, and on to 
Milan, across Switzerland to Heidelberg, down 
the Rhine to Cologne. From Cologne he went 
by rail to Bremen, and there embarked in a 
steamer and crossed the tempestuous waters of 
the North Sea to England. 

Another week was spent in London, and on 
this last Sabbath he went to Surry Gardens to 
hear the far-famed Spurgeon preach. A few 
days after, he pushed over to Liverpool, where 
he engaged passage to the city of New York. 
Upon reaching Liverpool he found the Wesleyan 
Conference in session. None are admitted to 
their deliberations, except by tickets from the 
president. A Mr. Harvard, who had been the 
traveling companion of Dr. Coke — an aged and 



172 DR. MOOD. 



lonely christian, insisted on asking for a ticket 
for Mr. Mood's admission. The president, how- 
ever, not feeling authorized to issue a ticket by 
virtue of his own authority, submitted the mat- 
ter to a vote of the conference. It was voted 
down almost unanimously. The only reason 
given for this act was that Mr. Mood belonged 
to a conference in a slave state. Such was the 
extreme to which fanaticism drove these good 
men. He had never owned a slave and his 
church had never been formally committed to 
slavery, but was only subservient to state 
authority. So, although he was an intelligent, 
amiable, christian, minister, the misfortune of 
having been born in South Carolina, where 
slavery was a political institution, sufficed to 
vote him unworthy of recognition by aWesleyan 
annual conference. The Wesleyans considered 
this occurrence as a precious morsel, and 
flaunted it to the English public as a proof of 
their orthodoxy on the question of slavery. The 
newspapers took it up, and during the few days 
that he remained in Liverpool he was sought 
out and rather lionized by some of the best 
citizens. 

In twelve days after setting sail for America, 
he landed in New York. There he was met by 
his father, who came thus far to welcome him, 
and bear him company home. 



TBA VEL8 IN EUROPE. 173 

Only a few years before his death, when 
speaking of this European tour, he said: 
"While traveling I found a thousand prejudices 
and bigotries of a national and social and relig- 
ious character melting away. Some of them 
were quite dear to me, but I endeavored in vain 
to maintain them — they passed away and I have 
never been able to reinstate them. This tour, 
too, has been a life-long pleasure. It has im- 
planted an interest of a personal nature, in the 
authors, soldiers and statesmen of the countries 
I visited, and in the countries themselves. This 
has given a zest to my reading, and an interest 
in the human family at large, I would never 
otherwise have experienced." 



CHAPTER XII. 

GKEENVILLE STATION. 

The Annual Conference of 1857 met at Char- 
lotte, North Carolina, this town then being 
within the bounds of the South Carolina Con- 
ference. Bishop Paine presided. Eev. P. A. 
M. Williams was elected Secretary, and Rev. F. 
A. Mood was chosen as his assistant. Mr. 
Mood was stationed this year at Greenville. 
This is a beautiful town in the north-west part 
of South Carolina, and is the seat of Furman 
University, Southern Baptist Theological Sem- 
inary, and also of a female college under the 
patronage of that church. But here, Methodism 
was very weak, the membership of the church, 
at that time, numbered between thirty and forty, 
only five or six of whom were adult male mem- 
bers. The church building — that index of life, 
and spiritual condition was small and dilapi- 
dated. The people, the year before had not so 
much as paid the board of the pastor who served 
them. The out-look for the Methodist preacher 
was anything but favorable. The stewards, at • 
the first meeting of the Board were very low- 
spirited, and offered but little encouragement; 



GREENVILLE STATION. 175 

but Mr. Mood was full of hope and full of 
energy. He was fresh from his travels. He 
had learned much and he was anxious to apply 
his knowledge. He entered earnestly and vig- 
orously upon his work. His sermons were fresh, 
warm, and spiritual. Early in April, it pleased 
God, in a very gracious manner, to visit the 
little church. The meetings resulted in a power- 
ful revival, during which the membership was 
more than doubled, and the spirituality of the 
church greatly quickened. From this time, all 
went well, the little church was crowded every 
Sunday,- and the members seemed to advance 
from "strength to strength in union." Thus 
passed away another year of hard study and 
abundant labors. 

Conference convened in Charleston, and 
Bishop Andrew presided. Rev. P. A. M. Wil- 
liams asked to be released from further duty as 
secretary, in which office he had so long and 
faithfully served his Conference, and Francis 
Asbury Mood was elected to this honorable 
position. F. M. Kennedy and O. A. Darby 
were appointed assistants. For ten years suc- 
cessively, with great satisfaction to the church, 
they held these positions. Toiling together labor- 
iously they cemented a friendship that was never 
afterwards jarred. 

Rev. F. A. Mood made a good secretary. He 



176 DR. MO OB. 



was a success at anything that required labor- 
ious painstaking. At the close of the session he 
had the satisfaction of receiving from Bishop 
Andrew, warm commendations and congratula- 
tions, as being U A fine secretary." 

He was reappointed to Greenville Station, and 
the conference slow of heart to believe in the 
great improvement of the church affairs at 
Greenville, by a small majornVy, determined to 
hold their following session at that point. 

He at once returned to Greenville and made 
arrangements for his living as a married man, 
and then hurried down to Columbia where on 
December 28th, 1858, he was married to Miss 
Sue Logan. So, after an intimate acquaintance 
of nearly four years, he claimed as his own this 
fond love of his life. Theirs was a perennial 
love. She proved to be a woman of nerve, 
energy and wonderful resources, ever equal to 
the many trials of war, fire, and the poverty 
which followed in their wake — through which 
in a few years they were called to pass. She 
stood by him strengthening him through it all, 
so that when he had reached the highest point 
of his life, — when his great work, — the founding 
of South-western University was an accom- 
plished fact, — and he could look back upon the 
past, as upon a toilsome, rugged road, safely 
ascended — in one of the closing pages of an 



GREENVILLE STATION. 177 

address, written to his children, he says: "Should 
the University grow hereafter to the dimensions, 
and attain the importance, that some of its 
friends confidently predict, and should you live 
to see your mamma and papa laid away in the 
grave, I wish you to say to the Directors of this 
great interest, that I here put on record the 
opinion that the alumni and friends of South- 
western University should erect a monument 
over your dear mamma as the real founder of 
the institution. It is she that has borne the bur- 
den and heat of the day, — who has. had to plan 
day and night so that our limited means should 
make us appear before the public with proper 
respectability, and who by a thousand little 
methods, known only to a devoted wife and lov- 
ing mother, has sustained and encouraged papa 
while he has ministered to your pleasure and 
comfort. How little did I anticipate in wedding 
my little blue-eyed Sue, how much of heroism, 
of patient toil, of wise administration, and of 
pious devotion would, in her, be thrown around 
my house." 

The year following was one of great happi- 
ness. His ministerial labors were abundant in 
fruits. Through these years his pen was not 
idle, for he was a regular contributor to more 
than one literary journal. 

The conference was to meet at Greenville, so 



178 DB. MOOD. 

he exerted himself for their entertainment. He 
found that the citizens of all classes and denom- 
inations were generous in their hospitality, and 
the preachers and visitors were handsomely 
cared for. 

The opinion of the Baptist brethren, was ex- 
pressed on the third day of the session by one 
of their deacons who said to Mr. Mood: "Parson, 
your stock has gone up to par." But on Mon 
day, after the preaching, ordination, and other 
services of Sunday, the same brother came for- 
ward and said: "Parson, your stock has gone 
up a leetle above par." By which he must have 
meant that his church was beaten a "leetle" in 
some things. 

Bishop John Early presided, with his usual 
independence, and at the close of the session 
secured a compliment to Mr. Mood by insisting 
upon the insertion of the name of the secretary, 
along with his, in the resolution of thanks that 
was passed complimentary to himself. 

To his great astonishment, when the appoint- 
ments were announced, Rev. F. A. Mood was 
read out as Presiding Elder on the Lincolnton 
District, which included within its bounds most 
of the territory of the South Carolina Conference 
situated in North Carolina. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

PRESIDING ELDER. 

Lincolnton and Orangeburgh Districts. 

His appointment as presiding elder of Lincoln- 
ton district was a great cross to him. It was 
his desire, expressed to his presiding elder, to 
be sent on the negro missions around Bloom 
Hill — Mrs. Logan's homestead — or any work 
convenient to that point, so that his wife might 
remain with her mother, who was extremely ill, 
until after her death, which all thought to be 
pending. For some reason this request was not 
considered and he was sent to the farthest limits 
of his conference — the parsonage at Shelby be- 
ing forty miles from Charlotte, the nearest rail- 
road point. 

But at the beginning of his ministry he had 
resolved never to refuse or hesitate to perform 
any service laid on him by the church. He con- 
sulted with the Bishop, and was told by him to 
live in Charlotte, and to inform the stewards 
that it was by Bishop Early's direction and re- 
quest that he did so. This settled the matter. 
He hastened down to Bloom Hill, as soon as his 
duties, as conference secretary would allow, and 



180 DR. MOOD. 



found Mrs. Logan much better. He at once 
went to North Carolina to make his arrange- 
ments for entering upon his new duties as well 
as for the removal to his new home. After near 
a month's absence, he returned to Bloom Hill 
and had the joy of welcoming his first born son. 
The child was baptized on the 24th of January 
1860, and on that occasion was named Francis 
Asbury. 

The work of Lincolnton district was extensive. 
There were thirteen charges to be visited on 
each round. Camp meetings were numerous. 
From May until November the Quarterly Con- 
ferences were held at these meetings. The pre- 
siding elder, therefore, lived in the woods most 
of the year, and indeed closed his labors on the 
district at a camp-meeting, in the midst of a 
snow storm. 

In his reminiscences of this year's labors he 
says: — 

"My association with the preachers was de- 
lightful. The industrious John Finger, the 
diminutive Daniel Ogburn, impulsive Osgood 
A. Chrietzberg, the holy and conscientious John 
Wesley Miller, the independent William W. 
Jones, zealous Daniel May, the earnest Abram 
P. Avant, the modest and timid Wesley W. 
Graham, the venerable John Watts, the lively 
and cheerful William H. Hemingway, the face- 



PRESIDING ELDER. 181 

tious, tender-hearted Scotchman Allan McCor- 
quodale, the ardent Louis A. Johnson and the 
steady-going E. A. Price constituted my staff of 
preachers." 

Rev. Henry Mood was at this time President 
of the Davenport Female College, in the upper 
part of the district, so that he had the great 
pleasure of frequent associations with this 
brother during the year. 

His labors on his first district were not grati- 
fying to him. He was under a great strain, for 
he constantly felt that he had not the strength 
of body or lungs to meet the physical demands 
of the case. The mountaineers expected forci- 
ble preaching, in the physical sense, and they 
were not easily satisfied with any other kind. 
His predecessor was Kev. J. W. Kelly, who had 
returned from California and re-entered his old 
conference. He was six feet four inches tall, 
large in proportion, and possessed a voice of 
immense compass. Coming as the successor of 
such a man he was viewed somewhat askance, 
at first, by his new people. One good sister 
jocularly exclaimed, when introduced to Mr. 
Mood, after looking down upon him with rather 
a significant glance, "Well, I reckon presiding 
elder timber is getting scarce in the South Caro- 
lina Conference — surely." He however filled 
all his appointments, met every Quarterly Con- 



182 DR. MOOD. 



ference, and closed his year not as one without 
much fruits. 

The fall of this year was marked by the great 
political excitement that culminated in the late 
civil war. After Mr. Lincoln was declared 
elected, and the state convention was called; 
when the question of secession was placed be- 
fore the people, Mr. Mood, as a faithful son of 
the Palmetto state went all the way to Charles- 
ton where he was recognized as a citizen and 
where he cast his ballot for secession. 

Conference met in Columbia, December 13, 
1860, under the presidency of Bishop Paine. 
Being a presiding elder, he was a member of 
the Bishop's cabinet; and as it was his first ex- 
perience in this body, he observed very closely. 
He left the following account of his impressions 
and the methods of working in the cabinet. 

"The Bishop was agreeable, cheerful, kind, 
and thoughtful; exhibiting the greatest care and 
anxiety for the preachers and their families as 
well as for the interests of the work. After 
prayer at our first meeting, he gave us a brief 
address, telling us that each had been put in 
charge of a district, for its careful supervision. 
He expected therefore that each one of us would 
be watchful for the best interests of his own 
district, — an exhortation I subsequently dis- 
covered the Bishop need not have given. He 



PRESIDING ELDER. 183 

went on to say, that in every conference there 
were three classes of preachers; first, a small 
number who from their eminent talents and 
popular ministry everybody wanted. These, 
said he, are difficult to station. Then there is a 
second class, a small number, who from their 
sloth, inability and inefficiency, nobody wanted. 
These are very difficult to station, and they are 
known in our councils as u wet-logs." Then 
there is a large third-class, who are faithful, 
reliable, industrious, and successful; these every- 
body is willing to receive, and they are easily 
stationed. 

I soon discovered that some of these grave 
presiding elders around me, were grave tacti- 
cians. The Bishop's staff that year consisted of 
Wiiliam P. Mouzon, James Stacy, A. M. 
Chrietzberg, W. A. Gamewell, W. A. McSwain, 
S. H. Browne, H. A. C. Walker and myself. 
James Stacy and A. M. Chrietzberg were emi- 
nently the tacticians of the staff. Brother Stacy 
declaimed against our having our strongest men 
in our colleges — and dwelt upon the great im- 
portance of certain portions of his work, and 
after detaining us by long pleadings, nominated 
Dr.Whitefoord Smith, then professor in Wofford 
College, for some little circuit on his district. 
Of course none of us would listen to it. He 
reluctantly receded and made another similar 



184 DR. MOOD. 



nomination, and so on, until worn out with the 
delay, we unanimously yielded to a nomination 
that under other circumstances we would not 
have listened to. 

Brother Chrietzberg, seemingly, wanted to 
man his district on the strength of Georgetown, 
his principal station. He dolorously, and at 
great length, urged the claims of Georgetown, 
as singularly peculiar and important — delayed 
and declaimed, but when urged to nominate, 
postponed it for the present, and nominated 
some one for some part of his district, to which 
we gladly assented, in order to make progress. 
After our second or third session, at which these 
supposed tactics were continued, I arose, ex- 
pressed my suspicions to the Bishop, and called 
on him to spike Brother Chrietzberg's gun by 
manning Georgetown forthwith; and Brother 
Stacy's by forbidding the further discussion of 
the great importance of his district. The good 
Bishop laughed heartily and exclaimed: u You 
are finding them out, are you? " 

"Could I have foreseen what would take 
place subsequently, I likely would have been 
more patient with Brother Stacy, and, without 
dissent allowed him to man his district as he 
chose, for when the appointments were an- 
nounced, I was transferred to the Orangeburgh 
district as his successor. 



PRESIDING ELDER 185 

r ii i 

"The Bishop was accustomed, after we had 
toiled awhile, successfully arranging the appoint- 
ments, to get up, walk to the fire, rub his hands 
in a cheerful way and say, "Come now brethren, 
let us all lay hold and lift a wet log." Then he 
would announce some poor fellow's name that 
' 'nobody wanted. " When we differed long and 
decidedly the Bishop put the case to a vote, and 
the preachers destiny was fixed by the majority 
of voices, the Bishop confirming this opinion." 

Immediately after conference he moved to 
Orangeburgh. The actual labor proved to be 
less than that of the preceding year; and as 
nearly all of the appointments were reached by 
railroad, the work was much more pleasant. 

Nothing worthy of special mention occurred 
in connection with the church interests, during 
the year. The association with the preachers 
was delightful, indeed he felt this to be the 
redeeming feature of the responsible and labor- 
ious office of presiding elder. 

How well Rev. James Stacy succeeded as a 
tactician will be recognized by any who might 
have been familiar with the membership of the 
South Carolina Conference, at that time, for A. 
B. Stevens, R. B. Tarrant, D. W. Seale, C. 
McLeod, A. H. Wells, G. W. Moore, J. L. 
Dixon, W. Hutto, W. G. Conner, E. A, Pierce, 
W. W. Graham, E. F. Thwing, M. A. Me* 



186 - 2)B. MOOD. 



Kibben, E. J. Pennington and J. B. Massebean 
manned the district. He for the first time had 
occasion to inspect, personally, the plan of 
operations adopted by the Methodist Episcopal 
Church South, in connection with the negro 
missions; and he expressed the opinion that, 
"The missionaries had a heroic task to perform, 
and they are indeed the servants of servants, for 
Christ's sake." 

Early in this year the dogs of war were let 
loose, and their rapacious jaws were not to be 
satisfied until the material wealth of this fair 
and prosperous land, together with the flower of 
southern chivalry should be devoured or wan- 
tonly destroyed! 

Despite the excited political condition the 
regular work of the church was kept up, and 
even the camp-meetings were held as usual. The 
North, warned as they were that an attempt to 
reinforce Fort Sumpter must result in war, per- 
sisted in the enterprise, and the bombardment 
and capture of the Fort was the result. Mr. 
Mood was present at this opening event. He 
was awakened about daylight on that memora- 
ble day that ushered in actual hostilities, by one 
of his servants who came to his room and told 
him that he thought fighting had commenced in 
Charleston as he had heard something like 
thunder since about four o'clock. He thereupon 



PRESIDING ELDER. 187 

boarded the first train for the city. Upon 
reaching the depot, a certain stillness, broken 
only by a roar like distant thunder, told the 
portentous events that were passing. He found 
the stores closed and the streets deserted. 
Hurrying down to the sea front of the city, 
known as the Battery and White Point Garden, 
from whence the grim fortress, and the circle of 
attacking batteries could be seen, he there found 
the population gathered, and the wharves and 
shipping in the harbor, and every cupola and 
steeple in the city were crowded with anxious 
spectators of the great drama. In solemn silence 
the multitude looked on. The curling white 
smoke hung above the angry pieces of friend 
and fbe, and the jarring boom rolled at regular 
intervals on the anxious ear. The atmosphere 
was charged with the smell of villainous salt- 
petre, and, as if in sympathy with the melancholy 
scene the sky was covered with heavy clouds 
and everything wore a sombre aspect. 

"I shall never forget," he says, "my mingled 
feelings of anxiety and distress when about 
noon, Saturday, April 13, 1861, Fort Sumpter 
flamed up like a volcano, the interior having 
caught fire; and it seemed as if the garrison 
must speedily, either be consumed or torn to 
pieces by the explosion of her large magazines 
of powder. Amidst the rising flames and smoke 



i88 DR. MOOD. 



we could see by the help of our glasses a signal 
that many present watched with the most in- 
tense interest. It was the Mason's appeal for 
help. Instantly a small boat, with a single pas- 
senger was seen to shoot out from Cummings 
point, and in the direction of the fort. It was 
Senator Wigfall, of Texas, then Aid to the 
Commanding General, who as a brother Mason 
answered Major Anderson's appeal, and amid 
flying shot and shell reached the fort and crept 
in through one of the port holes. We were told 
subsequently that he found Major Anderson 
and his men lying prostrate on their faces, to 
prevent suffocation, and that the senator, a 
highly impulsive and chivalric man, rushed for- 
ward and embraced Major Anderson, exclaim- 
ing, "Major, you have done all that a brave 
man could do; this is not a matter of Masonry, 
but a national conflict. If you cannot hold the 
fort, haul down your flag." 

A few moments after the senator had crawled 
in at the port hole, which I saw quite distinctly, 
the stars and stripes began to descend upon the 
staff, and in a few moments more a man could 
be seen with a white flag walking around the 
ramparts. The firing of the confederate bat- 
teries ceased, and the immense concourse of 
citizens dispersed in silence." 

"I preached at Cumberland Church next 



PRESIDING ELDER. 189 

morning. One may imagine the seeming awk- 
wardness of the attempt, when such deep and 
intense exitement filled the minds of the people. 
As I emerged from the church door, two of the 
official members asked me if I would accompany 
them in a boat to Fort Sumpter, as the evacu- 
ation was to take place about that hour. I con- 
sented to go, but, I confess, not without twinges 
of conscience as to the propriety of spending a 
portion of the Sabbath in that manner. Three 
of us, in a small sail-boat sped across the bay, 
and anchored within about fifty yards of the fort 
along with a number of similar craft. The 
Harriet Lane, a large steamer belonging to the 
Federal Government was anchored not very far 
off. Soon the stars and stripes were run up the 
staff, and the guns on the rampart of the fort 
bellowed their salute. A man at one of the 
guns near us was killed by a premature dis- 
charge during this salute, — the only death that 
occurred during this curious preface to the civil 
war. Immediately after the salute, a young 
man sprang forward and lowered the flag, and 
amid the cheers of the Confederate soldiers, 
drew up the ensign of the Confederate Govern- 
ment. A few moments elapsed, then the sound 
of drum and fife was heard, and emerging from 
the fort to the tune of Yankee Doodle, was the 
small band, seventy-eight men, who had held 



190 DR. MOOD. 



the fort during the thirty-six hours bombard- 
ment. They were conveyed to the Harriet 
Lane, which steamed out to sea, and in a few 
hours was lost to view." 

The civil war was now fully upon the nation, 
and all matters were affected by the conflict that 
was raging. 

Conference met this year in Chester, on De- 
cember 12th. Bishop Andrew presided. Mr. 
Mood found him quite unlike Bishop Paine in 
his methods in the cabinet. "Bishop Andrew," 
says he, "was more reserved, sterner, but not 
less sympathetic with the preachers and their 
families. He put nothing to vote in his council. 
He heard and weighed carefully the points pre- 
sented, then decided the question, and we all 
felt that there was an end of it." 

The war was now beginning to seriously affect 
all church operations. The attention of the 
people was turned more to the support of the 
army than to that of the ministry. The missions 
to the blacks were being broken up by the in- 
vasions of the federal army along the coast. 
The cordon of war was being drawn around the 
city of Charleston. Perpetual anxiety about 
husbands, sons, and brothers, kept the mind of 
the people engaged in the direction of the battle- 
field. The apprehension of invasion necessitat- 
ing the erection of forts and fortifications, oc- 



PRESIDING ELDER. 191 

cupied the labors of multitudes of the blacks. 
Many more had been moved from their homes, 
and were employed in the manufacture of those 
necessaries of life, which heretofore had come 
from abroad, the importation of which being 
now impossible, or at least extremely hazardous, 
as the entrance to all the ports were held by 
blockading fleets. 

The social and religious standard was sadly 
lowered, and the reports of the preachers at this 
conference were by no means encouraging. 

Another change awaited Mr. Mood when the 
roll of appointments was read, he was an- 
nounced as presiding elder of Charleston district, 
and W. G. Connor was appointed to succeed 
him on the Orangeburgh district. 

After this Conference Bishop Andrew accom- 
panied Mr. Mood to Orangeburgh and spent 
several days with him at his home. Here he 
gave to his nephew much wise counsel as to the 
probable exigencies of the work in view of the 
war, — particularly the missions to the blacks, in 
which he was deeply interested. 

A few months after this, after passing through 
deep afflictions, in a letter to his brother William 
he wrote: "For nearly three years now I have 
filled an office, which from its being principally 
of an executive character, and from the scattered 
nature of my work, prevents me from seeing the 



193 DR. MOOD. 



fruits of my ministry. I am far from thinking 
that I am best suited by constitution and tem- 
perament for the position. I am comforted, 
however, in the consolations of grace. I have 
never felt stronger desires after holiness or more 
ardent aspirations for conformity to the divine 
image. 

"After thy lovely likeness Lord 
Oh when shall I appear? " 

is the continual cry of my heart. My late afflic- 
tions I trust have not been without their advan- 
tage in leading me to greater submission to the 
divine will. But still I have to say, 

"And yet how far from thee I lie 
Oh Jesus raise me higher. " 



CHAPTER XIV. 

BESIEGED IN CHARLESTON. 

The Charleston district was composed numer- 
ically of seventeen charges; four stations, four 
circuits and nine missions. Three of the mis- 
sions, however, had been broken up by invasion, 
and the six remaining had been seriously threat- 
ened. Late in the previous year a fire had 
desolated some of the fairest portions of the city 
of Charleston; several of the leading church 
buildings had been destroyed, and Cumberland, 
the oldest Methodist organization in the state, 
had its building burned. This was the condition 
of the district at the beginning of 1862. Mr. 
Mood moved to the city and at once entered 
upon the duties connected with his office. By 
his removal into "he district parsonage, his mind 
was awakened to action, for many memories 
connected with events of his life were crowded 
within the narrow space of this building. It 
w^s in a corner of the basement room that at a 
prayer-meeting many years before, he had made 
his vows of consecration in answer to a divine 
call to enter upon the work of the ministry. 
This fact impressed him deeply and led him to 



194 BR MOOD. 



carefully review the past and to enter upon the 
earnest purpose of being more faithful to God 
in the future. 

About a month after moving to the city his 
first daughter, Kitty, was born, this was a great 
joy to the family. In a short while after enter- 
ing upon his duties he found that the preachers 
on the district and on the work generally were 
beginning to suffer from the operations and de- 
mands of the war. The entire work was in a 
state of anxiety, confusion and alarm, and 
several more of the missions had succumbed to 
invasion. 

Rev. C. McLeod appointed in charge of Cum- 
berland Church, had secured the use of a large 
cotton-shed not far from the site of the burned 
building, where he undertook to conduct regu- 
lar services; but the congregation of whites from 
whom he was to obtain support rapidly dimin- 
ished. The same thing occurred with the other 
city churches, so that Revs. C. McLeod, J. W. 
Humbert, and later Rev. A. M. Chrietzberg, 
being deserted by their congregations retired to 
the country. 

The siege had been regularly established. 
Many of the inhabitants had withdrawn from 
the city. The presiding elder found himself 
pressed for means upon which to support his 
family m the receipts in the way of rents were 



BESIEGED IN CHARLESTON. 195 



cut off from property which he possessed, and 
there was no income from the church worth 
mentioning. He could not get his consent to 
desert his post so long as he felt that duty held 
him to it; yet if he remained in Charleston he 
saw that he must provide some means of main- 
taining himself and family. His father had been 
induced to take a large government contract for 
making bits, spurs, and other cavalry equip- 
ments. In this emergency, he arranged with 
his father to have regular factory operations 
organized; and Mr. Mood worked daily along 
with his employees, and from that time on, he 
was by this means, enabled to secure a comfort- 
able support even in the most distressing period 
of the siege. These operations were soon so 
thoroughly organized by him, that but little 
more than a general supervision was required at 
his hands, which could be done without any 
serious draft upon his time. Under this arrange- 
ment he was able to discharge all the duties con- 
nected with his ministerial office. He visited 
the work outside the city regularly, though 
there was but meagre encouragement for him to 
do so, owing to the little that was being accom- 
plished in church matters. In the summer his 
father went to the country and from that time 
forward left the control of the factory entirely 
to him. Bishop Andrew visited the city during 



196 DR. MOOD. 



the year, and applauded this pluck of his nephew 
at going back to his trade rather than deserting 
his work or hazarding going into debt. In the 
condition of the city churches, their pastors 
nearly all being absent, he had abundant use 
every Sunday for all his preaching strength 
and talent. He doubtless overtaxed his strength, 
as the demands were so many, upon him, for in 
the latter part of the summer he was taken 
down with typhoid fever. The fever held on 
with alarming tenacity, and for weeks he 
languished with but little pain, yet with a 
steady decline of strength. Finally the crisis 
passed and all were looking for his rapid con- 
valescence when one morning, little Frank was 
brought down stairs from his grandma's room and 
laid on his father's bed for the doctor to examine 
when he made his morning call. The bright 
little fellow seemed very languid and sick. The 
doctor sent medicine for him in the after- 
noon; he continued very sick the next day, and 
the night following he died, with the most 
violent symptoms of yellow fever. This was 
September 27, 1862. Mr. Mood was extremely 
weak, and the shock at losing his first born, a 
bright boy at a most interesting and lovable age, 
was so great that a relapse followed. He had 
known bereavement, but never before had he 
suffered such a pang. He was so weak that he 



BESIEGED IN CHABLESTOJST. 197 

could not rally against it. It seemed that he 
must succumb to the relapse, but it pleased God 
to turn again the tide of life and health, and 
after a long convalescence he once more entered 
upon the regular role of duty. 

Conference convened at Spartanburg this 
year, on December 11. Bishop Early was presi- 
dent. The Bishop, as on his former visit was 
extremely cordial to Mr. Mood, who indeed 
was playfully twitted by the preachers as being 
the Bishop's favorite. He was returned as 
presiding elder on the Charleston district, and 
the congregations of Trinity and Cumberland 
were united under one pastorate, as were also 
Bethel and Spring Street. 

The clangor of war grew louder, accompanied 
with increased excitements, anxieties and ter- 
rors. Rev. James Stacy, who had been ap- 
pointed to the joint pastorate of Bethel and 
Spring Street Churches, notified the Bishop and 
Mr. Mood that for special reasons he would not 
take the work. The duty at once devolved 
upon the presiding elder, of supplying his place. 
He was able to do this promptly and efficiently. 
Rev. E. J. Meynardie, then a chaplain in the 
army, and stationed on Sullivan's Island con- 
sented to resign his chaplaincy and serve as 
pastor. 
Mr. Mood served the district faithfully; kept 



198 DB. MOOD. 



the work together and did as much good as the 
irregularities of the times permitted. He also 
served his country through his factoiy of cavalry 
equipments, and from this source he drew his 
support. 

It was now that the greatest war alarm came. 
He had gone out as presiding elder on the dis- 
trict to attend a Quarterly Conference, when the 
city was summoned to surrender. Upon refusal, 
the citizens were notified by Gen. Beauregard 
to leave the city, as the Federal Commander 
threatened to shell it. Sure enough, though 
their nearest battery was about four miles dis- 
tant, one night about midnight, while a terrible 
thunder-storm was prevailing, the Federals 
opened fire and reached the city with their 
shells. The citizens whose houses were in range 
of the guns, fled from their houses in terror. 
Hundreds of women and children, many of them 
m their night clothes, and with naked feet, 
could be seen tramping along through the rain 
and mud, fleeing to places beyond the reach of 
the deadly missiles. The presiding elder re- 
turned to the city to see marked changes in the 
number and feelings of the citizens. A large 
number had left the city prior to this time, but 
with this incident, the exodus received a new 
impulse, as may be imagined. The oft repeated 
statements of the prisoners lately captured, that 



BESIEGED IN CHARLESTON'. 190 

the Federals were intending to show no quarter 
when Charleston was taken affrighted numbers; 
and with each newspaper issue there was some- 
thing to awaken fresh alarm in the minds of 
those who had resolutely determined to remain 
to the end. 

Trinity Church was soon compassed by shells, 
and the pastor left the city. The church build- 
ing was struck at several places and greatly in- 
jured. The panic in reference to bomb-shells 
subsided rapidly. It is astonishing to observe 
'what the human mind can become reconciled to. 
Soon the inhabitants who could not leave the 
city settled down to composure, to hear hourly 
around them, the explosion of these dreadful 
messengers, followed by the crash of houses, 
falling from the tremendous concussion. Mr. 
Mood's family had been sent to friends at 
Orangeburgh at the first shelling of the city; 
but Mrs. Mood, brave and faithful, soon re- 
turned to share the dangers and privations of 
the siege with her noble husband. 

A bill had been introduced in the Confederate 
Congress, looking to a conscription of every 
man, including ministers and physicians, for 
service in the army. He, thinking it best to 
enter the army as a minister, if forced to enter, 
applied for the chaplaincy of the military hos- 
pitals at Charleston, this office having recently 



200 DR. MOOD. 



become vacant. After waiting some six weeks, 
and hearing nothing from his application, the 
matter had about passed out of his mind, when 
unexpectedly the appointment came. 

In a letter to Kev. W. W. Mood, under date 
of September 15, 1863, among other things, he 
tells of it as follows: 

"On Saturday last I went to the post office, 
and had handed me a large envelope stamped 
"official business," and upon opening it, to my 
great surprise it was a commission from the 
President, making me chaplain to the hospitals 
of Charleston, and requiring me to report for 
duty immediately to General Beauregard. So 
that I am no longer a free man, but under or- 
ders, having reported myself to the General's 
office yesterday and received orders to enter 
upon my duties immediately. It will allow me 
to attend to the remnant of my district, and the 
pay being about double of a regimental chap- 
lain, I will be able to support my family very 
comfortably upon it; so that you must join me 
in thanksgiving in this fresh manifestation of 
providential goodness. It allows me too, to do 
something directly for the army, which I have 
felt so anxious to do, and then, it delivers me 
from this regular care of making my support, 
which has been such a weight upon my heart 
ever since I had to engage in it. I am rapidly 



BESIEGED IN CHARLESTON. 201 

winding up all our affairs here. I will ship the 
last of our government work in a day or two — 
as soon as I can get it packed, and hope to be 
able to apply myself diligently to my new calling. 

So we see him just now occupying the triune 
position of presiding elder, post chaplain and 
army contractor. A few weeks later he wrote: 
' 'I have received a long nice letter from uncle — 
[Bishop] Andrew, congratulating me* on my 
appointment to a "very honorable and useful 
position." He sees great cause for rejoicing 
and hope, in the gracious revivals that are 
spreading over the army. We have had a series 
of gracious meetings, for the soldiers at Trinity. 
A goodly number have joined the different 
churches, giving in their names at Trinity. I 
was at the fourth Quarterly Conference at Bam- 
berg yesterday and day before, and expected to 
beg a good deal for hospitals, but it rained so 
on Saturday, and was so disagreeable yesterday 
I could not do much." 

With his hands full of his double work the 
year drew on to a close. Conference convened 
at Sumpter, December 10th, 1863, under the 
presidency of Bishop Pierce. The closing of 
Trinity, the burning of Cumberland, and the 
closing of Spring Street Church, had reduced 
the Methodists to one congregation, and one 
church building in Charleston. 



202 DE. MOOD. 



At the beginning of the war there were 3,088 
colored members enrolled in these three churches, 
besides 1,235 enrolled at Bethel, making a total 
colored membership of 4,323. Many of these 
were yet in the city, and they could not be neg- 
lected; so at the suggestion of Mr. Mood, the 
colored people were thrown together as one 
charge, to be called the "City Colored Mission," 
and Lion Church, a very large building, which 
was thought to be beyond the range of shells, 
was secured free of rent for their use. The 
Bishop placed Mr. Mood in charge of this mis- 
sion. The Missionary Society was able to pay 
but little; he therefore looked mainly to the 
chaplaincy for his support. 

Gradually the shells encroached upon the 
limits of the city, each new gun that was mounted 
seemed to throw the missiles a little farther than 
any that had before been in service. Finally, 
Calhoun Street, on which the parsonage was 
situated, was reached. He relates one experi- 
ence: 

"One evening I was delivering a soldier some 
testaments in the basement room of the parson- 
age when we heard the sound of a shell. His 
practised ear caught the direction, quicker than 
mine He exclaimed: "It is coming here," and 
threw himself prostrate on the floor; less nimble 
than he, I had not gotten upon my knees before 



BESIEGED IS CHARLESTON. 203 

it struck and exploded about twenty or thirty 
feet from where we were, just outside the build- 
ing. It shook the house to its foundations and 
shook our nerves in proportion. While that 
particular gun operated, it was of course poor 
sleeping. This shell was the only one that came 
so dangerously near the parsonage, several, how- 
ever, exploded on the premises just across the 
street." 

Besides the horrors of the siege, heavy family 
afflictions visited him this year. His father died 
early in the spring. He was sick only a few 
days. The last hours of this good man are 
aptly described by his son, in a letter written to 
Eev. W. W. Mood, the only member of the 
family not present at the time of the death and 
burial. His death was a fitting end to an upright 
Christian life. We give the letter below: 
Charleston, S. C, 
Monday Morning, 9 o'clock. 
Feb'y. 29th, 1864. 

Dear Brother William: — While I write, father 
lies near me engaged in the last mortal strife. 
He has been a great sufferer throughout his 
sickness. As I wrote you in my last, his disease 
being complicated, it was difficult to know what 
remedies had best be used. Throughout the 
long struggle with suffering he has displayed all 
patience, and entire and cheerful submission to 



204 DR. MOOD. 



the will of God. A while back he seemed to be 
enduring extraordinary suffering; he called to 
me and asked me what could be done. I told 
him nothing could now be done, but to cast him- 
self entirely upon God. ' 'Yes, yes, yes, " was his 
reply; then he added, "Oh prove faithful — 
work, work, work — be up and doing. Be dili- 
gent to make your calling and election sure." 
11 o'clock. I turn dear brother again from the 
bed-side of our dying father to add a few more 
lines knowing that every particular will be 
treasured by you, prevented as you are from 
being near him. 

His feet now stand in the midst of the icy 
flood, for he is cold to his knees — but his spirit 
still struggles with the clay. 

In one of his dreadful paroxysms just now he 
exclaimed, "Oh pray for me that my faith fail 
not." Then afterwards he said, "Yes, I claim 
heaven my portion at last." While Brother 
Henry prayed, he answered ' ' Amen" to every 
petition, and then asked us to sing. We then 
sang "And let this feeble body fail," he tried to 
follow the words, saying every now and then, 
"Yes! Yes!" 

Half past four a. m., March 1st. — "The silver 
cord is loosed, the golden bowl is broken." Our 
dear father has stepped across the flood only a 
moment ago, and is now exchanging greetings 



BESIEGED IN CHARLESTON. 205 

with the dear ones who have gone before. It 
was a long and painful struggle — he was sensi- 
ble to the last, and "the best of all was, God 
was with him." Not long before departing I 
said to him — "You are almost across the flood, 
pass a few more billows and you will be safely 
landed, and then you will forget all the pains 
and sorrows of the journey." He replied "yes, 
yes." Dear Brother let us renew our efforts to 
follow God closely. 

Yours affectionately, 

Asbury." 

At this time the labors of Kev. F. A. Mood 
were unusually heavy. He preached regularly 
as Missionary, conducting the Love Feasts and 
sacramental services of the blacks, and labored 
continually in the hospitals. Besides all this, 
yellow fever was epidemic in the city during the 
latter part of the summer — there were but few 
ministers who had remained in Charleston, so 
that added to his other duties, there were nu- 
merous calls to visit the houses of sick citizens, 
or to perform the offices of burial. 

The soldiers in the hospitals were suffering 
from the want of the simplest delicacies — and 
he occasionally sought these in the country. 
While on one of these excursions, he received a 
telegram stating that Mrs. Logan was dead. 
She died August 27th, 1864. 



206 DR. MOOD. 



He had a singular premonition during this 
epidemic that he would take the fever and die, 
yet he was not willing to leave his post. He 
called upon his family physician, and got full 
directions as to how to proceed in case of an 
attack. About ten days after this he was severe- 
ly smitten. His symptoms were of the worst 
type and he sank rapidly. On the third day of 
the attack, the attending physician told Mrs. 
Mood that her husband could not recover. This 
was on Saturday. The next morning she sent a 
request to all of the churches in which services 
were conducted, for the prayers of God's people 
in his behalf. Dr. Mood felt that it was in 
answer to these prayers that suddenly the dis- 
ease seemed to relax its hold upon him — and he 
began to grow better. His work had not been 
done. God had great things in reserve for his 
hand. 

Conference came on while he was yet con- 
valescing, convening at Newberry, November 
16, 1864. Bishop Pierce presided. In spite of 
his feeble condition Mr. Mood attended confer- 
ence, his will and energy would not permit him 
to refuse the secretary's duties, and he managed 
to get through them even in his feebleness, in a 
satisfactory manner. He was returned as 
missionary and chaplain, but on re-entering 



BESIEGED IN CHARLESTON-. 207 

t 
upon his duties he found himself too feeble to 
perform them. 

In the meanwhile General Sherman had 
reached Savannah in his "March to the Sea," 
and Charleston was supposed to be in imminent 
danger of being assailed. Many of the citizens 
who had thus far braved the dangers of the 
siege began to fly, and everything indicated an 
evacuation of the city by the Confederate troops. 
In this emergency, as every one believed that 
Charleston was a doomed city, but Columbia 
safe, he took his wife and two little children, 
Kitty and Asbury — the latter being an infant of 
only a few months old, and yet in long dresses — up 
to Columbia, and placed them under the charge 
of his brother Henry, who was, at that time, 
president of the well known Female College in 
that city. After returning to threatened and 
beleaguered Charleston, he recognized the fact 
that in his feeble condition he could not endure 
the fatigues of an army retreat, neither ought 
he to remain in the city, for thereby he would 
fall into the hands of the Federal army; and 
judging from their action in the case of other 
chaplains, this would mean imprisonment; 
which from the well known horrors of Northern 
prisons to one in his health must result in death. 
What was he to do? In this extremity there 
were but few courses of action to choose 



208 DR. MOOD. 



between. He was not long in deciding what he 
would do. In a letter to one of his brothers he 
gives the plans he had decided upon. The letter 
is as follows: 

Charleston, S. C, Jan. 2, 1865. 
Dear Brother William: — 

What I will tell you hereafter in this letter 
will serve in some measure to explain my long 
silence. I "was in Columbia some time after 
conference, then came to Charleston, preached 
two Sabbaths and was used up. I went to 
Fitch and Mood; they required me to desist 
forthwith from all public ministrations for 
several months and advised me to go before the 
Medical Examining Board, who confirmed the 
decision of these doctors. This left me blue 
enough. My voice is very weak and I suffer 
all the time with my breast,' The doctors say I 
preached too soon after getting up from yellow 
fever. Well, what think you I have done? 
Having to be idle so long was intolerable to me, 
so I determined to try to go to England and 
spend my time there begging for missions, etc. 
The doctors thought a trip on the sea the very 
thing I needed, so I will tell you how far I have 
gotten along in my project. I have obtained 
the Medical Directors' and General Hardee's 
approval of an application for leave of absence. 
I have Governor Magratte's hearty endorsement 



BESIEGED IN CHARLESTON. 209 

of an application for a passport, both of which 
will be on their way to Richmond this after- 
noon. I have had , two bales of cotton sent to 
Nassau for me free of charge. I have a free 
passage given me over to Nassau. So that as 
things look so favorably to my going, I venture 
now to write about it. In addition to all this, 
Providence seems to invite my going by giving 
such a snug place to my family. What do 
you think of the project? I will take Quash, 
the negro barber Avith me, as my servant, and 
he will exhort for me if necessary. * * * 
Your affectionate brother, 

Asbury." 
This step was singular and unaccountable even 
to himself in after years. He had been released 
on account of his health from all obligations to 
follow the army and knowing the tender devo- 
tion with which he regarded his family it is only 
with surprise that we can contemplate how he 
got his consent to leave them in the midst of 
such vicissitudes. Yet these very vicissitudes, 
the calamities and excitements of war tended to 
confound judgment and reason, and he was led, 
not only to leave his country at this critical time, 
but he assumed the great hazard of passing 
directly under the frowning guns of the block- 
ading fleet. Perhaps his ways were provident- 
ially ordered and it required this voyage to give 



210 BR. MOOD. 



him a new lease on life, the tenure of which 
would run for another twenty years. His mind 
always worked rapidly, it had been made up to 
this step upon the shortest notice, and now as 
was his habit, it was not long before he had put 
his purpose into action. 



CHAPTER XV. 

RUNNING THE BLOCKADE. 

During the last few months struggle of the 
expiring Confederacy the port of Charleston was 
so completely blockaded by the Federal fleet, 
that it was exceedingly difficult and dangerous 
for vessels to pass in or out at that harbor. But 
Mr. Mood's purposes were fixed. Friends inter- 
ested in blockade-running, had already sent a 
number of bales of cotton to Nassau, on one of 
the Bahama Islands, subject to his disposal, and 
by the sale of which he expected to realize a 
sufficient amount to meet his expenses while he 
was away from home. Thus far his way seemed 
clear, for Confederate money and Confederate 
credit was worth but little at home, and nothing 
abroad; cotton, however, could readily be con- 
verted into specie, in any foreign port. The 
passage that had been proffered him had been 
accepted, and he had been notified to be ready 
to sail on an appointed night. The necessary 
arrangements were speedily made, and he was 
promptly on board at the stated time. The 
vessel was painted white and the crew and pas- 
sengers were all required to dress in white as 



212 DR MOOD. 



their design was to elude the vigilance of the 
blockaders, and experience had proved that 
white was more favorable for this purpose than 
any color or combination of colors they could 
select. For convenience all on board wore long 
white robes or gowns reaching to their feet, 
with white caps covering their heads. These 
phantom ships with their ghostly crew must 
have been weird sights as they skurried along 
through the mist and darkness. 

Rev. W. W. Bennett, D.D., of Virginia, also 
an army chaplain was to be his fellow passenger. 
He had been sent out by the Confederate Bible 
Society for the purpose of procuring a supply 
of bibles for the Confederate soldiers. 

After safely reaching his home, Mr. Mood 
wrote a series of articles for a newspaper which 
he edited for a few months, giving many of his 
trials and experiences while on the blockade run- 
ner and in the city of Nassau. We give a few 
quotations from these articles. 

He says: "The first attempt we made to run 
the blockade, which, however, proved a failure, 
was exciting enough. The jaunty little "Fox" 
lay saucily spouting steam from the escape pipe 
while we made our supper. Suddenly the order 
was peremptorily passed into the cabin, "put out 
the lights." The wheels revolved, and off we 
started on our hazardous attempt. No lights 



RUNNING THE BLOCKADE. 213 

were permitted in the harbor so we were verily 
groping our way in the dark. We had just 
gotten abreast of Fort Sumter, and the mysteri- 
ous flashes of the signal lights were multiplying 
along the Sullivan's Island shore, and we were 
all peering with anxious eyes into the profound 
darkness, when suddenly there loomed up a 
large black monster on the larboard quarter. 
"Hard up your helm" shouted the Captain and 
Pilot in one breath. "Back! back! " was cried 
to the engineer; scarcely had the order passed 
their lips when with an awful crash the boats 
collided and we were nearly thrown on our 
faces. We all rushed forward instinctively to 
learn our fate, and there gaped a hideous openr 
ing down to the waters verge. The picket 
steamer had run into us. With many mutter- 
ings of anger and disappointment, we turned 
back on our track, and soon our little "Fox" 
was snugly moored at the Savannah Railroad 
wharf. 

"It was rather a calm night to venture out in 
the face of the blockading fleet, and about an 
hour after we had landed, the revolutions of 
paddle-wheels were heard rapidly nearing us, 
and directly the sharp outlines of a blockade 
runner were seen. ' 'What steamer is that? " we 
called out. "The Little Hattie," was the reply. 
Upon boarding her we found that at just the 



2H 2)R MOOD. 



other side of the famous break-water that juts 
out from Sullivan's Island, the Little Hattie had 
been attacked by barges, but she had escaped 
with a hole through her wheel and pilot-house, 
the ball taking off the right arm of the man at 
the wheel. 

"Our fourth was our last and successful 
attempt. Our steamer had been repaired, but 
the weather had remained provokingly calm, the 
sky clear, and the phosphorescent light of the sea 
unusual. Thursday night, however, was as the 
captain expressed it, "perfectly beautiful for 
running the blockade." It was dark as Erebus, 
soot overhead, and ink beneath. The wind 
howled dolefully through the rigging, throwing 
up a sea, that while as the captain said "Ample 
to drown the sound of the wheels'' seemed to us 
to threaten to drown a good deal besides, for a 
misty rain that shut out all objects a few yards 
distant invited all sorts of accidents. 

' 'It was very amusing to see us, before leav- 
ing the wharf, choosing the safe positions in the 
event of our being discovered and fired upon. 
The cabin had been carefully fortified with cot- 
ton bales, and it was not unnatural for us to 
suppose that a safe place. But our theories 
were exploded by officers, when at the table, 
through remarks like these: "What! Stay in 
the cabin to have your brains knocked out by 



RUNNING THE BLOCKADE. 215 

splinters?" Said another emphatically, "You 
know splinters are much more dangerous than 
shells." A third added, "And if the ship is 
struck and begins to settle, a pretty piece of 
business it would be to be shut up in this 
caboose." So we went out on deck. My friend 

B gave the whole subject deep thought and 

the entire deck careful examination. With most 
ingenious thoughtfulness he selected an opening 
among the cotton bales just abaft the boiler. 
This arrangement gave him the boiler on one 
side, which protected him from the keen cold 
air, and cotton bales around him on the other 
three, which would protect him from cannon 
balls on the rear and flanks. But he promptly 
evacuated his comfortable hiding-place, upon 
being reminded that if a cannon ball should 
strike the boiler he would suddenly find himself 
in "hot water." The writer was run out of his 
hole near the mast by the warning cry, "Look 
out for splinters!" Finally, at the suggestion 

of our brave young friend F , who had 

charged on many a battle-field, and who had lost 
an arm in fight and w T ho had a right to advise 
in such matters, it was resolved that in the 
event of attack we would "lie supinely upon 
our backs and wait until the enemy" had done 
his worst. 

But steam is up, the anchor is weighed, and 



216 DR. MOOD. 



we are under way, anxiety for safety and suc- 
cess weighing heavily on our minds. Our lily- 
colored steamer plunged along upon an inky 
sea into impenetrable darkness. 

"Fort Eipley had been passed, and the gloomy 
fortress of Sumter towering on our starboard, 
and the surreptitious flashes, like fire-fly lights 
glancing along the shore, being answered from 
our steamer, when presently an ominous roar- 
ing thunders just ahead. The officers stand in 
silence, scanning the darkness, and we can hear 
in a low tone, but with startling distinctness, 
" A wreck dead ahead, sir, back her, sir, back 
her, sir.'' We peer into the darkness, and there 
on either hand rolls in white folds the angry 
surf over the breakwater and the skeletons of a 
dozen wrecks. 

It is dangerous navigation at this point in 
times of peace, when beacon-lights and light- 
houses mark out a pathway, but it looked like 
rushing into the jaws of fate to venture there a 
stormy night, when these friendly guides were 
not flashing their rays across the waters. We 
turned around, backed, went forward, backed 
and turned with anxious caution and again 
plunged forward. The sea roared in white 
anger on us upon either side as we finally rushed 
between this Scylla and Chary bdis; but we 
passed in safety. Our success here, only intro- 



RUNNING THE BLOCKADE. 21? 

duced as to greater perils beyond, for just out- 
side the breakwater the barges of the enemy 
were usually lying in wait. It was too stormy 
however for the barges to ride the waves, and 
so our little steamer danced her polka over the 
water, until the long, steady, heaving motion 
of the waves notified us that we were upon the 
ocean's bosom. 

But what is that we see on our starboard? 
Hush! keep silence all! is whispered along the 
deck, for their is the cordon of blockaders, their 
lights betraying their lurking-places. Their 
black hulls loom up out of the water like huge 
spiders, ready to spring upon their prey. 
"Look!" said an old salt to me, "Look! we are 
near enough to fling a biscuit aboard of her." 
But you must remember what sort of a biscuit 
he meant. It was "hard tack," an article of 
which I once heard that it might be shot out of 
a cannon through a two-inch board without 
breaking. But the darkness that had been 
against us now favored us, and these dangers 
too were soon passed safely through. 

"The blockade runner was a lonely voyager. 
She dreaded to see or to be seen by any other 
craft. All day while voyaging, a man dressed 
in white was drawn by a tackle to the mast-head 
and reported every sail, for the discovery of 
which he received special compensation. As 



218 DR MOOD. 



soon as "a sail ho!" was cried, and the answer 
given to u where away?" the vessel darted in an 
opposite direction. And so for days we were 
playing hide and seek among the ocean's waves. 
We had beautiful weather the latter part of the 
voyage, and our little steamer sped along over 
a calm sea and under a bright sky. Those who 
had suffered with sea-sickness during the rough 
weather revived, and were able to sit on deck 
and enjoy the balmy southern breezes, which 
were already wafted to us from the Antilles. 

1 'Sunday was a lovely day, already the air was 
like May in Carolina though it was now in the 
middle of January. Soft summer breezes wafted 
to us tropical perfumes and all nature seemed to 
invite to gratitude and worship. As we sat 
upon the deck in the beautiful sunshine, our 
hearts went back to friends and loved ones. 
"Little Mary Lee," said my friend B *-, look- 
ing at his watch, while all of a father's tender 
affection arose to his eyes. "I wonder what she 
is doing? " and while he proceeded to divine the 
childish diversions of the hour, my own heart 
answered in thoughts of my own little blue-eyed 
Katie. We were out amid peaceful scenes and 
these innocent ones were encircled by war's 
devouring elements. 

"But two things received any considerable 
attention or accommodation on board a blockade 



RUNNING THE BLOCKADE. 219 

runner, these were cotton and the cuisine. The 
first named has preference over everybody and 
everything, having precedence even in the cabin, 
the passengers being politely handed to beds 
upon the cotton bales, or the dining tables. The 
cuisine was furnished with every delicacy served 
at almost every hour of the night and day. In- 
deed next to getting safe out of Charleston and 
getting safe into Nassau, but one idea seemed to 
fill the heads of all interested, and that was to 
eat and drink all they possibly could, of ever}' 
imaginable variety and excellence of food and 
liquor. u Oh I am so tired climbing over these 
cotton bales," exclaimed one of the cuisine brig- 
ade, passing us one day; and no wonder, thought 
we, for it was one ceaseless trot after coffee and 
all the et ceteras, which on a blockade runner are 
innumerable. Our facetious, but sea-sick friend 

B , would frequently, with a ghastly smile, 

point to the members of that legion — for they 
were many — as they incessantly flew from the 
galley to the cabin, armed with plates, tureens, 
and coffee-pots, and exclaim "That is the active 
department on board this ship." 

"The sight of land is at any time pleasing to 
one who has been even for a short time on the 
ocean, but the sight of the green Bahamas, as 
they rise from the bue waves, skirted with their 
fringe of white foam; the raging surf, that beats 



220 DR. MOOD. 



eternally upon their coral reefs, is beyond de- 
scription beautiful. 

"We came in sight of them Tuesday, and all 
that day we skirted along their beautiful shores 
— now a light-house, then a shoal of flying fish, 
a flock of sea-birds, vast fields of sea-weed, or 
the boom of the roaring surf, as it was tossed a 
hundred feet mid-air, enlivening the scene. 
After passing the Elbow Light, the greatest 
anxiety was manifested by the officers of the 
boat, for just beyond the "Hole in the wall" 
light, the Federal cruisers had an ugly habit of 
loitering and suddenly pouncing down upon the 
blockade runners. We all felt that it would 
have been supremely disgusting, now that we 
were almost in sight of Nassau to have one of 
these huge spiders pop out from this "Hole in 
the wall" and gobble us up. 

"But New Providence hove in sight and all 
hands evidently felt relieved. The look-out left 
his perch at the mast-head, and the pilot came 
to us gleefully rubbing his hands, exclaiming, 
"All danger is past now" — he got $5,000 in gold 
for every time he got the ship safe into Nassau, 
and the captain got a like sum. 

"It was profoundly affecting to my feelings, 
as we rounded into the Nassau harbor to look 
oat upon the scene before me. It was just grow- 
ing dark. The dock was crowded with shipping, 



RUNNING THE BLOCKADE. 221 

the city lay in quietness and safety, and a thou- 
sand jets of gas-lights from the streets and win- 
dows, illuminated the scene; while cheerful 
songs, music, conversation and laughter were 
borne to our ears. It was impossible to shut 
out from my mind the scene we had just left 
behind us. We had crept stealthily from a city 
whose harbor was deserted, whose streets were 
desolate, whose dwellings were in darkness save 
as illuminated by the glare of conflagrations 
from Gen. Gilmore's "Greek Fire," or the flash 
from exploding shells; and whose silence was 
broken only by the crash of the falling walls or 
the roar of hostile cannon. As the merry sounds 
of laughter and music were borne over the 
water, thoughts of home and loved ones, hemmed 
in by the fiery circle of war again filled our 
hearts with sadness. But we were compelled to 
shake off all reveries. "Go to shore sir? " was 
urged a thousand times, from dozens of anxious 
darkies, each of whom seemed sorely afraid we 
might have the temerity to remain on ship-board 
all night. "What will you take us ashore for? " 
we asked. "Only fifty cents, sir." "Whew," 

said F , "that is $25; remember we paid $50 

in Confeds for $1 in gold." The fact is, F 

harrowed us all next day with these calculations. 
Said he, with horror depicted on his countenance 
"Do you know that we will have to pay $150 



222 DR. MOOD. 



per day at the hotel, for they charge $3 in gold." 
The fact is, we were stunned by this sudden con- 
flict of old and new ideas in money value. 

Upon reaching shore another crowd of atten- 
tive and ambitious darkies crowded around us 
displaying the greatest interest in our persons 
and baggage. We speedily relieved their anxi- 
ety by picking up our baggage a la Confeder- 
ates and walking to the Royal Victoria Hotel." 



CHAPTER XVI. 

IN THE WEST INDIES. 

% A galaxy of languid Ameriean beauties, 
floating in white muslin, escorted by fine-look- 
ing well-dressed young fellows, safe outside the 
Confederacy— the sight of whom F mali- 
ciously declared would have made the mouth of 
a Confederate enrolling officer run water — met 
our gaze as we entered the dining-hall of the 
Koyal Victoria Hotel on the morning after our 
arrival. We, on our part, attracted considerable 
attention, our battered appearance contrasting 
strangely with the handsome appointments of 
the large saloon, and we were confronted with 
eye-glasses in alarming numbers, which were 
brought to bear on ns with frightful delibera- 
tion. But we tried to carry ourselves calmly as 
men who, just from the front, had been under 
heavier fire than that, and we carelessly and 
blankly met the intimidating assault of the 
quizzing glasses as though we felt like saying: 
u Oh, fire away! Those glasses are nothing to the 
200-pound shells that we have been dodging for 
the last two years." 

u The tables of the "K. V. H." groaned under 



224 DR. MOOD. 



every imaginable luxury from the zones and 
tropics, and we were regaled with the aroma of 
fruits from all parts of the world. You must 
remember, we were poor Confederates, who had 
been subsisting for years on the closely calcu- 
lated meals of a besieged city, made up chiefly 
of corn bread, molasses, and bacon. Think of 
such men suddenly introduced to a bill of fare 
calling for four different sorts of soups, five of 
fish, three of poultry, six of meats — among them 
what was printed "Bouille Beef," and which my 

friend B ■ persisted in translating "Bully 

Beef — nine of vegetables, eight of pastry, six 
of fruit, with nuts, raisins, etc., not to mention 
the entrees. 

"With all this profusion, however, we missed 
one thing which from long use among the Con- 
federates had become a staple article of table 

consumption — I mean "sorghum." B and 

myself tried to picture to our minds the con- 
sternation that would be awakened among the 
attendants, and the horror of the exquisites had 
either of us had the hardihood to call for mo- 



"Our sojourn in the West Indies would have 
been delightful had our minds been in peace. 
But echoes of war's horrid din continually 
reached us, bringing each time tidings of ac- 
cumulating disaster to Southern hopes. Nothing 



IN THE WEST INDIES. 225 

can surpass the beauty of West Indian scenery. 
The gorgeous foliage and fruit of the tropics so 
completely differs from that of the temperate 
zones that one feels as if he were transferred to 
another sphere. Fruits that we had never seen, 
because too delicate to admit of transportation, 
flowers whose heated sap will flourish only un- 
der a tropical sun, continually recurred, and the 
easy, languishing habits of the whites, the idle 
and live-to-day habits of the blacks, told a trop- 
ical tale. 

' 'Thousands of miles of unbroken ocean inter- 
vene between the Antilles and the coast of 
Africa; and there is therefore to be seen a trans. 
parency of the ocean's waters, a height, power 
and sublimity of the ocean's waves, as in restless 
surges it forever beats upon these beautiful 
coral reefs, that are never seen about the conti- 
nent. A penny may be seen fathoms below the 
surface; and it is one of the amusements of the 
Islanders to throw a small coin into the waters 
and watch the struggles of the little darkies, 
who, like hybrid devil-fish, dive, swim, squirm 
and splash, in their efforts to recover it, which 
when done becomes their property. 

u The dwellings of the islands, conformed to 
the demands of the climate, therefore are not 
without their peculiarities. Verandahs and pi- 
azzas are universal, and so are Venetian protec- 



226 DR. MOOD. 



tions. Chimneys are never seen, except pro- 
truding from the kitchen-roof. The coral rocks 
are quarried for building purposes; lime is ob- 
tained from the same source, and the lumber 
and furniture from Yankee Land. Their 
churches generally are airy and spacious, and 
affect "the dim religious light" much less than 
English structures. 

"Here the first and most successful war of 
emancipation was fought, and here Africa's 
sons enjoy a paradise of freedom. Common 
schools are everywhere provided, and experi- 
enced, educated instructors "teach the young 
idea how to shoot. " I do not mean to convey 
any idea by the quotation, however, that they 
are military academies, albeit the late experi- 
ences of the English colonies seem to convey 
the impression that "to shoot" is a conspicuous 
"idea" of the race when educated. I visited 
several of the schools and spent some time in 
listening to their recitations. The most ad- 
vanced classes recited lessons of only an ele- 
mentary character — and much of the time was 
occupied in singing and marching — these feat- 
ures also an importation of Yankee Land. 

c 'In several of the schools that I visited the 
floors were laid out in circles, triangles and 
squares of different colors, reminding one of the 
figures painted upon the floors of gigantic ball- 



mr THE WEST INDIES. 



rooms to govern the cotillions. These figures, 
however, were not to convey mathematical in- 
struction, except in so far as it might partake of 
a peripatetic complexion. The marchings, 
counter-marchings, wheels, turns and flanking 
movements of the classes were in some cases 
w r ell executed and picturesque to a visitor, and 
perhaps necessary to engage the interest of the 
pupils, but consumed much more of the time 
than the recitations and the study. Their sing- 
ing was good. I have yet to see the negro that 
cannot sing — a physiological fact I will not now 
discuss. 

"The fondness of this race for gorgeous dis- 
play, we found was made liberal use of in the 
schools that we visited. "The red cap boys'' 
was the title to one of their favorite songs, and 
was a tribute to those, who by excellent lessons 
and behavior had the honor of wearing u the red 
cap." But anything more hideous as an article 
of dress, one can scarcely imagine. It was a 
tall liberty cap, of fiery red cloth, without a 
visor, going to a point and ending in a tassel 
which hung down over the right ear, reminding 
me of those horrid pictures of pirates, in "The 
Pirates Own Book" with which when a boy I 
foolishly tortured my imagination. Yet these 
educated, and embryo-ebony pirates in appear- 
ance, flaunted their red tassels with more pride 



228 DR. MOOD. 



than I have ever seen a white child dandle a 
gold medal; but whether it enkindles superior 
ambition to excel, I doubt. 

"The Missionary Conference, as it may be 
called, of the Wesley an Methodist Church in the 
Islands, held a session while we were in the West 
Indies. The chairman of the district, Rev. Mr. 
Cheesboro, met us with Christian cordiality, and 
introduced us to the several members of the 
laborious and self denying body of Christian 
ministers. 

"We were particularly interested in conversa- 
tions we were permitted to hold with Rev. Mr. 
Lofthouse, the oldest Wesleyan Missionary in 
the Islands. He was a Missionary for years pre- 
vious to emancipation, and in accordance with 
the sentiment of his church urged emancipation. 
At the time Mr. Wilberforce was pressing the 
passage of the act before Parliament, he was 
sent to England and was closeted with the com- 
mittee that reported the bill. At the suggestion 
and on the evidence of Mr. Lofthouse the com- 
mittee adopted several important amendments. 
Chief among these was the clause which 
attempted, under an act of emancipation to hold 
the negroes in a condition of vassalage, called 
apprenticeship, for five years. The scheme 
failed utterly. For though the freedmen were 
bound to their former owners by a law of appren- 



IN THE WEST INDIES. 



ticeship, they had the right of appeal to the 
courts, and the delays of the law sufficiently 
screened the freedmen from any enforcement of 
this anomalous relation. 

"Mr. Lofthouse confessed to disappointment 
in many of his theories relative to the blacks. 
The utter extinction of trade, the entire absence 
of all exports being a reduction from $2,600,000 
per annum to naught in Jamaica alone, the enor- 
mous reduction in the value of real estate, the 
general abandonment of plantations, the rapid 
diminution of the black race — one third having 
disappeared since the act of emancipation — the 
steady and marked increase" of disgusting de- 
bauchery, the great decline of church member- 
ship, despite the costly system of missions and 
common schools, and to this extent, at least, the 
failure of missionary enterprises in the Islands, 
were points upon which he had felt great disap- 
pointment, and for which he could give no satis- 
factory reason, though we thought we could. 

"I enjoyed the intercourse with this intelli- 
gent, venerable and amiable ministerof the gospel 
very much, and indeed with all the ministers 
with whom we were, by this accidental meeting 
brought in contact. They are prosecuting theii 
ministerial duties amid many discouragements, 
and are called to sacrifice nearly everything con- 
nected with social and political life, that intelli- 



DR. M001). 



gent and educated men regard as desirable. 
But "none of these things move them, neither 
count they their lives dear unto them," and year 
after year pursue their duties patiently and fear- 
lessly. No man, who has a heart to admire the 
heroic, but must admire and respect them in 
their isolation and toil. 

"Though we were from what the outside 
world imagined, ' 'the region of the shadow of 
death" — the Slave States, they not only shook 
our hands, and called us brethren, but treated us 
as such and invited us to Christian communion 
and fellowship. We preached for them to large 
and attentive audiences, and they will not, I am 
persuaded, soon forget the eloquent discourse 

of my friend B : , whose charming simplicity 

and earnestness in the pulpit engaged all hearts. 
We also delivered addresses by invitation at 
their missionary meeting and the anniversary of 
the Bible Society for the West Indies. At this 
last, his excellency, the Governor of the Island 
presided, who, though he met us with great 
courtesy and cordiality, at this meeting informed 
us that the necessity of the strict observance of 
the neutrality pledged by his government for- 
bade anything further. 

"After remaining about a month in the An- 
tilles we determined to leave their beautiful 
shores. We cast about for some time to secure 



IN 1RB WEST INDIES. 231 

a berth in some steamer going to England, but 
failed. The closing of the ports of Wilmington 
and Mobile, and the prospect of the early cap- 
ture of the port of Charleston, had all at once 
exploded "blockade running," and the steamers 
were all lying by, watching events before they 
determined on anything. So driven to this ex- 
tremity, B and myself took passage in a 

trim little brig called the "Wild Pigeon." She 
had great reputation as a fast sailer, and had as 
her commander a kind-hearted, straight-for- 
ward Englishman. We watched with impatience 
the slow filling up of our vessel, but at last 
received notification to be aboard on Friday 
afternoon. This arrangement however had 
been come to by the owners, in the face df a 
protest by the Captain. He declared that he 
had never known a vessel sailing on Friday to 
make a successful voyage. He could cite a 
hundred instances; he was excited, he was de- 
sponding, he became angry. Friday was a day 
of "bad luck," and he saw no reason why he 
should be made the victim of "bad luck" in 
order to satisfy the cupidity of employers who 
did not care whether he sailed on Monday or 
Friday. Long, earnest and heartfelt were the 
discourses we heard from the Captain on this 
subject, and he gave us to understand finally, 
that though it was a sailor's maxim, "Obey 



232 t)B. MOOD. 



orders if you break owners" he was disposed 
rather to "break maxim" than "break owners." 
The owners however were inflexible, and at 
half past three o'clock on Friday, the afternoon 
of a lovely tropical day, late in February, we 
stood aboard our ocean home, and were looking 
out, as I supposed for the last time, upon the gor- 
geous equatorial splendor of the Antilles. Soon 
after getting aboard, the Captain, with a cheerful 
face, came to us saying "Gentlemen, we will 
not get off this afternoon; you know I object to 
setting sail on Friday; we will hoist sail with 
the morning's tide, four o'clock tomorrow." 
"Then I can go ashore," said I, promptly, feel- 
ing unwilling to spend an hour aboard longer 
than was necessary. "Oh, yes, but return 
about dusk." Jumping into the gig I was 
rowed ashore, to take a last stroll over the 
scenes that in their novelty had a peculiar fasci- 
nation for me. I called and bade a second 
adieu to my hostess, spent another half hour 
with Mr. Cheesboro, and finally wrung his hand 
in sadness- — for strange forebodings, for my un- 
happy land, were now filling my heart and op- 
pressing my feelings — and then I sauntered 
toward the beautiful bay once more. I was 
listening again to the roaring surges, admiring 
again the beautiful tinge of the beautiful sea, 
when ahead of me I saw the expanded wings of 



IN TEE WEST INDIES. 233 

a trim little brig marvelously like the Wild 
Pigeon passing out the mouth of the harbor. I 
ran to some seafaring men in anxious haste 
"What vessel is that?" pointing to her. "It is 
the Wild Pigeon bound for Liverpool." What 
a predicament! My baggage — but that was not 

much — and my friend B were aboard. She 

a half mile off, and I ashore. I ran to some 
boatmen. In hurried and peremptory tones I 
told them they must put me aboard that vessel. 
They sprang to the oars. "A stern chase is a 
long chase," but my oarsmen bent themselves 
to it. "Click-clack," "click-clack," thumped the 
oars while the perspiration streamed from the 
oarsmen. We were gaining on them. The brig 
had rounded out of the mouth of the harbor and 
we were now both upon the long heaving swell 
of the ocean's tide. But we overhauled the 
Wild Pigeon in her flight just as the pilot was 
taking leave. 

"I confess to some affectation of calmness 
when I found myself alongside. "You are a 

pretty fellow," exclaimed B , "you came 

near being left." "Near being left indeed! am 
I not in time to get aboard?" "In time!" said 
he, rather sarcastically. "Yes," I cried, "in 
time to get aboard, and that is all the time any 

sailor wants." But B- could not see it so. 

He grumbled a good deal over my carelessness 



234 DR. MOOD. 



and delay, and kept surmising the fix I would 
have found myself in if I had not overtaken 
them — a surmise I could only reply to, by ask- 
ing him what would have been the probable 
state of this world if Eve had not plucked and 
tasted the forbidden fruit? 

"I think he was mollified a little however in 
his feelings, by a small cargo of fruit and other 
good thing} that I had managed to get aboard. 
It seems that just after I left the brig, peremp- 
tory orders came for her immediate sailing, and 
despite the captain's wishes, he had to hoist 
anchor. I could not be found and so they moved 
off without me. No harm was done, however, 
for I got safely aboard. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

A SEA VOYAGE — RECONSTRUCTION — USURPATION. 

Prosperous gales wafted the Wild Pigeon on- 
ward toward old England. It seemed that for 
once a voyage began on Friday would be with- 
out ill luck. Nearly two weeks had passed 
since leaving Nassau, when one afternoon the 
Captain was seen, anxiously scrutinizing a bank 
of heavy clouds that lay along the Northern 
horizon. He at once ordered the sails to be 
taken in. Preparations were not fully com- 
pleted when the storm burst upon them. Mr. 
Mood afterwards described the scene as follows: 
' 'I was sitting at a table in the cabin, writing. 
It was about eight o'clock in the evening. 

B was lying on the sofa wrapped in his 

overcoat, suffering from the pangs of sea-sick- 
ness, when suddenly, by a tremendous lurch of 
the ship, I was jerked violently from the table. 
A second lurch, sent me, holding firmly to my 
chair, upon a most ungraceful slide to the op- 
posite end of the cabin, against which I was 
thrown with violence. The roll of trunks, the 
clatter of crockery, closing with the crash of my 
chair against the paneling aroused B from 



236 DE. MOOD. 

his torpor. He raised up, and in tones some- 
what dogmatic, exclaimed: "Why Mood, what 
are you about?" "Sliding," said I. "Well, I 
would quit if I were you," and having thus de- 
livered himself, he resumed his recumbent posi- 
tion, his overcoat and his groans. The sharp, 
quick, imperative commands of the officers, the 
hurried tramping on deck, the plaintive cries of 
the sailors from the rigging, the dismal howling 
of the wind, the rushing waters and the wild 
tossing of the ship, all announced the sudden 
bursting of the storm. Hurrying on deck a 
scene of wild sublimity met my gaze. The ship 
rushed with frightful velocity through the 
waves, at her prow a boiling cauldron, in her 
wake a sea of phosphorescent fire. Ever and 
again she seemed to hover on the edge of abys- 
mal chasms about to make a plunge into un- 
measured depths, the waves "lifting up their 
hands on high" in horror, while black, impene- 
trable clouds hung their mournful drapery 
around the sublime catafalque, and the winds 
with piteous wailings seemingly sobbing a dis- 
mal dirge. We remained up until after mid- 
night, occasionally looking out upon the raging 
elements, and watching the swift flight of our 
Wild Pigeon that seemed to be hastening in 
terror from the scene. 

"The gale continued for three days with un- 



RECONSTRUCTION. 237 



diminished power. At one time the sun broke 
through the clouds for awhile in serene bright- 
ness, imparting at once a new and sublime ap- 
pearance to the awful scene around us. The 
waves, from a leaden color, became a cerulean 
blue, and, tossed mid-air between us and the sun, 
looked like huge boulders of sapphire inlaid 
with emerald. A singular and beautiful feature 
of the scene, was the refraction of the sunlight 
through the spray, into which the summit of the 
waves was broken by the violence of the wind, 
looking at times as if the arch of a giant rain- 
bow had been shattered into a thousand frag- 
ments and were strewn around us. 

"The third day found the gale increasing in 
violence. About seven o'clock in the morning, 
all was quiet in the cabin, save the monotonous 
creak of the furniture — the captain and the first 
mate were below fatigued from the nights 
watches — when suddenly there was a stunning, 
overwhelming crash. I was hurled from my 
berth out upon the cabin floor, the ship groaned 
and reeled under the blow, and a moment after, 
mingled with the sound of creaking timber and 
broken glass, a torrent of water came pouring 
in upon us through the broken hatches and sky- 
lights. Dining tables, trunks, chairs, lamps and 
China-ware, mingled with living men came 
careening in wild and dangerous confusion down 



238 BE. MOOD. 



to the lower end of the cabin. Stunned by my 
fall and blinded with water, as soon as I could 
catch hold of something I got to my feet, only 
to find everyone in the cabin, like myself, wet 
and wondering, clinging to the first thing they 
had clutched, their countenances expressive of 
the greatest consternation. Nor was the con- 
sternation less on deck. An overwhelming wave 
had torn away the booby hatch, and swept off a 
considerable section of the bulwarks. Casks and 
barrels were rolling about, the men dripping 
with water were clinging here and there, giving 
an alarming appearance of confusion and wreck. 
"Late in the day, we made a melancholy 
attempt at breakfast, the pitching of the ship 
frequently sending the eaters in unexpected 
visits to the other side of the cabin. Twice I 
measured the length of the cabin, holding to my 
chair with one hand and balancing a cup of tea 
in the other, and succeeded in going and return- 
ing the entire trip without losing a drop. Ah! 
those were dreary comfortless days, for the 
broken sky-lights and raging storm necessitated 
our being battened down in darkness below. 
We could neither sit, lie, stand nor sleep in com- 
fort and so like felons in a dungeon, could only 
patiently endure. Imagine if you can, the relief 
we felt when after three days of such a life the 
sun broke through the clouds, the angry waves 



RECONSTRUCTION. 239 

subsided, our sails were again expanded, the 
ship put upon her course, and we once more 
found ourselves, safely and pleasantly progress- 
ing; nor could we refrain from grateful thanks- 
givings to that merciful God, who rules in earth 
and ocean, and who vouchsafed in His mercy, to 
restrain the tempestous waves that seemed in 
their fury about to compass our destruction. It 
was amid the most exciting of these scenes that 
we felt how precious it was to be able to place 
ourselves in His gracious keeping, feeling that 
whatever the result it would all be well." 

After a voyage of thirty-seven days, the Wild 
Pigeon reached Liverpool without further mis- 
hap; and there they learned of the continued 
disaster of the Confederate cause. Mr. Mood 
was especially moved by the tidings of the evac- 
uation of Charleston, and the burning of Colum- 
bia. This last intelligence producing the most 
acute anguish of mind; for there he had left his 
wife and babes, and the published accounts 
showed the action of the enemy under Sherman 
to have been vandal-like in its barbarity. He 
saw that the home to which his family was 
assigned had been burned, and his imagination 
pictured ten thousand horrors of their fate. He 
was much impressed by the cold and reserved 
manner in which he was met by many of those, 
who in his former visit to England were appar- 



240 DR. MOOD. 



ently his warm and earnest friends. He learned 
this important lesson; that the South was enor- 
mously humbugged when she supposed she had 
foreign sympathy in her struggle. With the 
exception of some of the nobility, who were 
anxious to see the United States power divided, 
and a few who had business connections with 
the South, the British nation was unanimously 
against her and rejoiced in her failures. On his 
first visit the Wesleyan pulpits were all thrown 
open to him, but now they were closed against 
him, none of the ministers inviting him to offi- 
ciate. He was from the slave country and that 
was a sufficient reason with them to ignore him 
in his official relations. He soon saw that there 
was no hope for carrying out the purpose that 
brought him to England; for had he had the 
heart and hope to labor in the face of the intelli- 
gence that had reached him of the state of his 
country, he was debarred the opportunity of 
reaching the public through the proper channels. 
Thus he stood surrounded with a concurrence 
of distressing circumstances. What was he to 
do? He could not get back to South Carolina 
without swearing- allegiance to the United States, 
his He could not do so long as the Confederacy 
existed as a government. He knew not what 
stand his own country and army might yet be 
able to make. Thus he was torn by mental 



RECONSTRUCTION. 241 

anguish, led on by hope, then overshadowed by 
despair. He could only await events. But 
here, among his former friends, he found a few 
who remained true and firm. Their kindness to 
him was conspicuous in these hours of suspense. 
The waiting, though it seemed ages, was not 
long. A few weeks announced the surrender of 
General Lee, of General Johnston, and finally 
of General Kirby Smith, which last finished the 
catastrophe. By a singular coincidence, with 
the news of the surrender of General Smith, 
came a few lines in a letter from Mrs. Mood, 
which though few, told a weight of sorrow. 
She said that Columbia had been destroyed, the 
old homestead had been burned — they were 
without food, and begged him, if able, to come 
home. 

The South had been subjugated. There was 
no alternative for him. He must pass under the 
yoke. He must go home. Though the South- 
ern cause was lost the claims of his family were 
upon him. 

He and Mr. Bennett then determined to sail 
at once for America; but before they could take 
passage on any of the steamships they were re- 
quired to give indubitable proof that they were 
citizens of the United States. Early the next 
morning they hastened to London, and called 
on the United States Minister, Charles F. 



243 DM. MOOD. 



Adams, to take the oath of allegiance. They 
were kindly received, and upon asking Mr. 
Adams if the reports of the downfall of the 
Confederacy were true, he showed the dis- 
patches just received from Secretary William 
H. Seward which confirmed them. The oath at 
their request was then administered. Both were 
greatly distressed by this necessity and greatly 
humiliated by the conditions of the oath. 

They at once returned to Liverpool, secured 
passage on the steamship Asia and set sail for 
Boston. The voyage was melancholy enough. 
There was much to irritate a Southerner return- 
ing to a conquered country and a desolate home. 
The greater part of the passengers were of the 
victorious section, who were constantly vaporing 
their silly boasts about conquering the rebels, 
and claiming the rights of conquerors; though 
they had been careful to keep far from the 
scene of conflict while the war was raging. 

It was very unpleasant to be in daily contact 
with such a crowd, with the prospect ahead of 
immediate arrest at landing, for Mr. Adams had 
told him that the passport he gave only landed 
him in Boston, and he could not tell what would 
follow that, for great exasperation prevailed 
owing to the assassination of Mr. Lincoln. He, 
however, was only required to renew his oath 
of allegiance to the United States before General 



RECONSTRUCTION. 243 

Dix of New York. After remaining in New York 
a few days, visiting relations and friends, he 
came on to Baltimore, where the same oath was 
required to be taken again. He found a few 
very warm friends in Baltimore, who aided him 
liberally and substantially, and secured him 
free transportation via New York to Columbia. 

While in Baltimore he learned that one of the 
Bishops of the African M. E. Church was in the 
city, having just returned from South Carolina. 
He went at once to see the Bishop, who received 
him most kindly, and said, "Your signature on 
your card is very familiar." "How so?" "Why, 
I have lately been at your home in Charleston, 
and saw your library. It is in the possession 
of Rev. Mr. Lewis of the M. E. Church. 
Bishop Simpson sent him there. He has taken 
possession of the parsonage with its furniture 
and appointments, and all of the city churches. 
A large majority of the colored people have 
gone with him, though I have organized a large 
membership." 

This was interesting news to Mr. Mood. He 
was acquainted with Bishop Simpson, having 
been intimately associated in Liverpool in 1857 
with both him and Dr. McClintock, who that 
year represented the M. E. Church at the 
Wesleyan Conference. He determined that 
while on his way to New York he would stop 



244 DR. MOOD. 



in Philadelphia, call upon the Bishop and learn by 
what authority that functionary could take pos- 
session of any of the property of the M. E. 
Church South. 

Bishop Simpson received him— spoke at once 
of their pleasant association in England. He 
soon alluded to the fact that Mr. Lewis had 
been sent to Charleston to take charge of the 
city churches. He then said, substantially, that 
the Church South is meeting with denunciations 
on every side, as the instigator of the war — 
having taken the initiation step in 18i4. That 
it is identical with the M. E. Church in doc- 
trine and discipline — except on the question of 
slavery, and now that that question has been 
settled by the arbitration of arms, it can not 
hope to maintain a separate organization. He 
further said: "The work of absorption is 
inevitable. The property of the Southern 
Church will revert to our hands. Now, Mr. 
Mood, I recognize in you a rising young man; 
if you will come at once into the M. E. Church 
— a thing you must do eventually — I will see 
that you are well taken care of, in fact, I will 
give you your choice of the city churches of 
Charleston." 

Mr. Mood was not the man to whom such an 
offer from such a source would be acceptable. 
He gracefully declined the proposition, and told 



REC0N8TR UCTION. 



the Bishop that he had not come seeking over- 
tures, but for the purpose of having the church 
property restored to its rightful owners — and 
forthwith began to urge the justice of his claims 
— Bishop Simpson would not listen to reason, 
but rudely interrupted him, and Mr. Mood see- 
ing that nothing could be accomplished retired 
from the house. 

He sailed in the steamer Arago, from New 
York, along with the last of the prisoners from 
Fort LaFayette, who were returning to their 
homes in the south. Mr. Mood was very happy 
in the hope of soon being with his loved ones, 
but he was returning to a conquered country — 
a land made desolate by the ravages of war. He 
was without means, his friends were impover- 
ished, his Church perhaps would be disinte- 
grated, the question that was perplexing his 
thoughts and trying his faith was, u What is to 
become of my family? " But in the midst of 
these harassing thoughts, a gracious Providence 
ensued. Not long after embarking, a gentleman 
came to him, addressed him by name, and said 
that he knew him in Greenville, South Carolina, 
when he filled the Methodist pulpit in that town. 
He further stated in his conversation, that he 
was returning to South Carolina as a United 
States Internal Revenue officer; he wanted an 
assistant, and he offered him the position at a 



246 ' bR. MOOT). 



salary of one hundred dollars a month. It 
seemed a God-send in this hour of distress, for 
he could not recall the name or face of his bene- 
factor. Before giving his answer, he consulted 
with some of the Confederate commissioned 
officers who were aboard, and with their advice, 
accepted the position. 

The Confederate officers were allowed to 
promenade on certain parts of the deck. There 
was only one lady passenger aboard. She often 
sat on deck in pleasant weather. The Confeder- 
ates would remark upon her northern manners. 
She did not find favor in their eyes. Mr. Mood 
noticed on one occasion that the glare of the 
sun was unpleasant to her. He went to his 
state room, brought up a small umbrella that he 
had with him, and politely proffered it to her. 
It was modestly received, and a kind remark 
from her induced him to stand for a moment or 
so in conversation. During the trip he had a 
good many opportunities of paying her atten- 
tions, and doing for her little acts of service. 
He found her very intelligent; and gained much 
information concerning current events, as well 
as a knowledge of some of the inner workings 
of the northern mind in reference to the recon- 
struction of the South. 

In the meantime, the Confederate officers were 
having their fun at Mr. Mood's expense. They 



McoNsmrrcTioF. m 

gibed and ridiculed him for keeping company with 
a Yankee school marm. He bore it all pleasantly, 
kept his own counsel and let no opportunity 
pass for being polite or attentive to this ele- 
gant and well informed lady, from whom he 
was learning so much. After they had been out 
two or three days she told him that a steam tug 
would meet them at the Charleston bar and take 
her direct to the city, while the steamer with 
the other passengers would go on to Beaufort. 
He also learned from her in this conversation, 
that she was the wife of Brevet-Major General 
R. Saxton, who was second in command at 
Charleston, and that she was on her way to meet 
her husband in that city. After learning these 
facts he neither enlightened the minds of his 
fellow-passengers nor ceased his attentions, to 
this lady. He bore their jokes philosophically 
for his mind was full of another matter. 

When he found that they were nearing 
Charleston bar, he told Mrs. Saxton of his cir- 
cumstances, the condition of his family in 
Columbia, and of his great anxiety to reach 
them without delays; and he asked her if it were 
possible for him to go directly to the city with 
her. She heard it all in silence, then said, ' 'Mr. 
Mood it is a profound secret that these are my 
arrangements, I have nothing to do with them, 
I cannot say now that you may accompany me. 



DR. MOOD. 



However it is yet several hours before the tug 
will appear, and I will meet you here and talk 
with you again on this matter." 

It was not long before her baggage began to 
be brought on deck. It was evident to the Con- 
federate officers, who were grouped together 
curiously watching the proceedings, and com- 
menting upon them, that something unusual was 
about, to transpire. The lady reappeared, ex- 
amined her baggage then approached Mr. Mood 
and said to him, u Let your baggage be quietly 
pat here with mine, and when the tug appears be 
kind enough to hand me over the ship's side — 
and follow me." 

Soon the tug was seen approaching, and came 
alongside; the baggage was hurriedly trans- 
ferred. The moment came. He offered her his 
arm, and they both stepped aboard the tug. 
The shrill whistle blew, and the tug started 
shore- ward. The lady was cared for by the cap- 
tain, and Mr. Mood standing prominently on 
deck, took off his hat and politely bowed his 
adieus to the Confederate officers, who looked 
on with blank astonishment and envy as the 
steamer again put out to sea, taking them yet 
farther from their loved ones, from whom they 
had been so long separated. 

As he passed up the Charleston Harbor, that 
July day, his mind could but revert to the man- 



^CONSTRUCTION. 249 

ner in which he had passed out of that harbor, 
just six months before. There he saw the 
symbol of the Conqueror fluttering from every 
battlement where he had left the Southern flag 
unfolded. Here and there a steamer moored at 
the wharves marked the first faint semblance of 
reviving trade. And when he reached the 
wharf, a few negroes idly basking in the sun 
was the only evidence of life he saw. 

He was at once impressed by the bearing of 
the colored people towards him. He had had 
the pastoral care of thousands of them, and 
was always treated with the greatest possible 
deference and affection by them. This was 
especially the case with the officials and the 
older members of the churches he had served. 
This was all changed. Now they either avoided 
him, or else boldly turned their backs upon 
him when he attempted to address them. He 
soon learned the cause. They had gone in a 
body to the Northern Church. Out of a mem- 
bership of nearly seven thousand only three re- 
mained as members of the Southern Branch of 
Methodism. 

He made it his business, while delayed in the 
city, to call on several of the most intelligent 
and influential members among the colored 
people, visiting those who had never been 
slaves, who were persons of property, and some 



250 DR MOOD. 



of whom had been owners of slaves, that he 
might learn their real feelings towards the 
Southern Church. 

They said: "Mr. Mood, we have nothing 
against our former church. We love her, and 
always will. Our movement is one of policy. 
If we remain in our former relations, as mem- 
bers of the Church South, we acquire neither 
influence nor church property. If we go to the 
Northern Church we get both." This, so far as 
it appears, was the great moving cause with the 
negroes of the South, inducing them to, almost 
unanimously, change their church relations, and 
to forsake their old friends with whom they had 
been, so long, associated, and who had made so 
many sacrifices for their good. 

He hurried on to Columbia, riding for miles 
together where the wave of war had rolled, 
leaving everything behind it broken, barren and 
desolate. His conveyance was an open wagon 
drawn by mules. But he reached Columbia. 
There, amidst its ashes, he found his wife and 
babies, and they rejoiced together over their 
mutual deliverances. There he learned the tale 
of sorrow. How Columbia was burned. How 
the Vandals had mercilessly applied the torch, 
that drove his wife and children from their 
home out into the streets, where with hundreds 
of other panic-stricken refugees they wandered 



RECONSTRUCTION. 261 

all night; the mother with her baby boy in her 
arms, and her little three year old girl clinging 
to the skirts of her dress. At last, toward 
morning, she found a refuge in the yard of the 
Insane Asylum, and subsequently, a temporary 
home with a relative. But, thank God, this 
night of terror was past, and bad as it was, it 
might have been worse. 

He at once moved his family to Charleston, 
to enter upon the discharge of the duties con- 
nected with his new and novel position. This 
seemed to promise him ample support. How- 
ever, after serving the United States in this 
office for a few months, he was called on to take 
what was known as the "Iron Clad Oath" as a 
condition of his drawing his pay. Of course he 
could not take that oath, so he left the office 
immediately with about six hundred dollars due 
him. 

Upon reaching Charleston with his family he 
found, as he expected, Rev. Mr. Lewis, of the 
New England Conference of the M. E. Church, 
in possession of Trinity Church parsonage, also 
claiming and holding Trinity, Bethel, and 
Spring Street Churches. He had turned the 
first two churches over to the colored members, 
who worshiped regularly in them. Bethel was 
reserved for the whites and Mr. Lewis officiated 
regularly here. Mr. Mood called upon him and 



252 DR. MOOD. 



asked him to give up the house, but he refused, 
stating that he held it by the rights of war and 
under an order from Bishop Ames. He also 
cooly stated that he held the churches, with 
their furniture and libraries, for the Church 
North, under a military order signed by Secre- 
tary Stanton, . and that he was secure in the 
claim. No appeal to right had any effect on 
him. With him might was right. 

In the hasty manner in which Mr. Mood had 
left Charleston, his library, his private corre- 
spondence and many other items of property 
were left at the parsonage. Bishop Ames could 
have no trooped up claim on these things. He 
asked Mr. Lewis if he would allow him to re- 
move them, but he doggedly refused. "Up to 
this time," said Mr. Mood, when afterwards 
alluding to the matter, ' 'I thought I had been 
entirely reconciled to the events of the war. I 
had endeavored, calmly to meet the conse- 
quences resulting from our appeal to arms, but 
this struck a side of my affections that produced 
in me the most distressing results. It seemed 
to me that all the fierce passions of my nature 
rose in rebellion to reason and grace, and I con- 
fess to feelings of anger, contempt and hate, of 
which I have since been heartily ashamed, and 
for which I have implored God's forgiveness. " 

The Southern Church was sorely embarrassed. 



RECONSTRUCTION. 253 

She was literally turned out of doors, and her 
property seized by another Church that held it 
without the shadow of a righteous claim. 

After the emphatic refusal of Mr. Lewis to 
relinquish the property, Mr. Mood determined 
to leave nothing undone in order to secure the 
rights of his church. None but those who had 
to work out these difficult problems, can have 
any conception of the troublesome obstacles that 
blocked the way at every step. The state was 
under military rule. The city was policed by 
the officers and soldiers of the victorious army, 
who flushed with victory felt that "to the victors 
belong the spoils." Public sentiment was para- 
lized. The people were terrorized. They hardly 
hoped for justice from the military courts. 

Mr. Mood determined to make application to 
President Johnson. But his individual applica- 
tion unless backed by recognized military au- 
thority would avail nothing. He determined to 
call on General Saxton, who was in command of 
this department and knowing the difficulties in 
the way of obtaining an interview, he carefully 
prepared all the papers necessary and took every 
needful precaution to secure an audience with 
the General and to insure the success of his 
cause. He called at his office. There was a 
large crowd in the ante-room awaiting an inter- 
view with the officer. He sent in his card, and 



254 DR. MOOD. 



was immediately invited into the presence of the 
General who met him most cordially, remarking 
as he held out his hand, "I have never had the 
pleasure Mr. Mood, of meeting you, but I have 
formed your acquaintance through my wife, 
whom you accompanied on her trip from New 
York, and who is so grateful to you for your 
kind and gentlemanly attentions to her during 
the voyage. What can I do for you? " 

Mr. Mood, at once, proceeded to explain his 
grievances, and presented the papers that had 
been prepared requesting his inspection. The 
General looked over them and inquired, "Shall 
I endorse them and forward them to the Presi- 
dent?" "By all means," Mr. Mood replied, 
"and I will be very much obliged to you, sir." 
To this tho General agreed, and Mr. Mood 
thanking him for his kindness, bowed himself 
out of his presence. 

In comparatively a few days the papers were 
returned from Washington, properly endorsed, 
with orders for an immediate relinquishment of 
all the property. Mr. Mood immediately called 
on Mr. Lewis and showed him the papers. He 
was greatly surprised. His manner at once 
changed, and he asked how long before he must 
give possession? "I want possession immedi- 
ately!" Mr. Mood replied, "and I will give you 



RECONSTRUCTION. 255 

until to-morrow to vacate the parsonage. " Mr. 
Lewis asked the privilege of conducting one 
more service in Trinity Church. Mr. Mood 
granted the request with one condition, that he 
be present in the pulpit. Mr. Lewis objected. 
Mr. Mood said, "I require this as a condition. 1 ' 
On the following Sabbath as Mr. Lewis walked 
into the pulpit Mr. Mood followed and sat be- 
hind him while the services were being con- 
ducted. During the services he took occasion 
to speak in a most excited and offensive manner 
of the Church South, to the immense concourse 
of colored people present, representing that the 
greatest injustice had been done them in requir- 
ing them to relinquish the building. His remarks 
were calculated to excite the worst feelings of 
those who heard him. Mr. Lewis, no sooner 
sat down than Mr. Mood arose, and in a few 
well chosen words, firmly and authoritatively 
spoken, required the congregation to leave the 
church at once. They did so. Thus the par- 
sonage, Bethel and Trinity Churches returned 
into the posession of their rightful owners. But 
Mr. Lewis held Spring Street Church as with a 
death grip, and it was not until about two years 
afterwards that in a dilapidated condition, it was 
taken from his eager clutches. 

It must ever remain a sad stain upon the 
records of Northern triumph, that they were 



256 DR MOOD. 



willing, after the surrender of the Southern 
armies to, so long, hold in the interests of a 
Northern Church, the holy shrines where wor- 
shiped southern people. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

IN LABORS ABUNDANT — THE CALL TO TEXAS. 

Conference met in Charlotte, North Carolina, 
November 1st, 1865. Bishop Pierce, a third 
time in succession presided. F. A. Mood was 
appointed presiding Elder of the Charleston dis- 
trict. After getting home from Conference, he 
sat down, considered his surroundings and 
almost gave up in despair. The war was over, 
but it had left the country impoverished and 
exhausted. He was presiding elder of a district, 
but he could expect no income from that source. 
It seemed to him, that if he looked to the Church 
for his support, his family would starve. After 
deep, earnest, and prayerful consideration of 
this subject, he determined to seek for some 
secular employment that would bring him an 
income, sufficient to meet the wants of his 
family, and yet that would not interfere with 
the discharge of his ministerial duties. He 
began to look about for such employment, and 
by the aid of George W. Williams, of Charles- 
ton, and in partnership with Rev. U. 8. Bird, he 
entered upon the publication of " The Record" 
a family weekly newspaper. The first number 



258 DR. MOOD. 



of this journal was sent out on Saturday, Decem- 
ber 16th, 1865. It, at once, took high literary 
rank among the journals of the South, and was 
well received by the public. It was a literary, 
family, and religious newspaper judiciously 
combined, eschewing party discussions relating 
either to questions of Church or State. Mr. 
Mood developed great fitness for the editorial 
chair; his articles were vigorous, aggressive, 
terse, and finished; most of them possessing a 
freshness that is perennial. 

But this step was a venture, and a newspaper 
venture at this time could but be a failure. 
Financially it proved to be a source of much 
anxiety and distress to him. After a few 
months he abandoned it, and not without con- 
siderable losses, which harrassed his mind 
greatly; these, however, he was able eventually 
to adjust. 

A short time after entering upon the news- 
paper enterprise, he was waited upon by the 
vestry of the Unitarian Church of Charleston 
and invited to preach regularly for them. He 
was surprised at this proposition, and said to 
the gentlemen, that he was a Methodist preacher, 
and could only preach Methodist doctrine. They 
said, in reply, that "they preferred Methodist 
doctrine from a South Carolinian, to Unitarian 
doctrine from a New Englander," there being 



THE CALL TO TEXAS. 



no Unitarian organization south of New Eng- 
land from which they could secure the services 
of a preacher. 

He, at once, wrote to Bishop Pierce of the 
matter, stating the whole case. The Bishop ad- 
vised him, by all means, to "serve them with 
the pure Gospel. " Again we see him occupy- 
ing a three-fold relationship — editor of a news- 
paper, Minister to a Unitarian Congregation, 
and presiding elder of a district. 

He preached regularly at this Church for some 
months. When visiting the work of the district 
outside the city, he procured the aid of some of 
his brethren in the Ministry to till the pulpit. 
Perhaps this is the only instance in the history 
of Methodism where a Unitarian Congregation 
afforded support to a Methodist presiding elder. 

Some months after this, when a minister came 
over from England to take charge of this con- 
gregation, a similar request to that which had 
been made by the Unitarians, came to him from 
the Vestry of the Huguenot Church. This was 
a very old organization. It had an existence as 
early as 1686, and the site on which their 
Church building was erected had been the chosen 
spot where the worshipers of this faith had 
regularly assembled since 1701. The Church 
was abandoned in 1863, from danger of the 
shells. It had been greatly injured, having 



260 DB. MOOD. 



been struck several times by the shot fired from 
the besiegers, but singular to say, none of the 
costly and delicate tablets, placed in the church 
as sacred memorials, sustained any injury. 
After the restoration of peace, this people de- 
sired to worship God in their own sanctuary; 
but they were without a pastor. Mr. Mood had 
endeared himself to many hearts by his untiring 
ministrations when the city was besieged, and a 
pestilence was raging in their midst. Then it 
was, that doctrinal lines were not considered, 
and the Man of God was never questioned as to 
his church relationship, and remembering these 
things they now came to Mr. Mood and requested 
him to take them under his ministerial care. 
He was, therefore, duly installed as temporary 
pastor, and the "re-opening services" of this 
church, on June 17, 1866, was an occasion of 
great interest. 

He preached for the congregation of this 
ancient Church until late in the ensuing year. 
They were greatly pleased with his ministrations 
and begged him to assume regular and perma- 
nent charge. He referred them to Bishop 
Pierce, who replied, that he could not so ap- 
point him, but that he was willing to appoint 
him for a regular Methodist term, beyond that 
he could not go. 

As they were accustomed to a fixed pastorate, 



The call to texas. m 

they began to look about for one who could so 
serve them. Meantime, however, while he 
served them, he received from them a comfort- 
able support, which enabled him to serve the 
portions of his district which demanded the 
labors of a presiding elder. 

On December 23, 1866, the Conference met at 
Marion under the presidency of Bishop Wight- 
man. After returning from Conference Mr. 
Mood was induced to take the position as Vice 
Principal in the State Normal School, which he 
held during the first half of the year 1867. 

During this summer, Bishop McTyeire was 
on a visit to Texas. Soule University, at Chapel 
Hill, in that state, had re-opened and was en- 
deavoring to rise from the disasters of the war. 
The trustees were anxious to organize and begin 
a Normal School Department in connection with 
the University. Upon conferring with the 
Bishop on the choice of a principal, he, remem- 
bering Mr. Mood's connection with a similar 
school in South Carolina, and knowing his sig- 
nal abilities, recommended him as the man for 
the position. The Bishop immediately wrote to 
Mr. Mood and urged him to accept the position. 

About the same time, Mr. Mood received a 
letter from Bishop Paine, asking him to consent 
to be transferred either to New Orleans, Vicks- 
burgh or Nashville, as the church was in special 



262 DB. MO 01). 



need at those points. The Bishop stated that at 
the annual meeting of the Bishops in May of 
that year, they had selected him as a transfer for 
the West. This, doubtless, was very gratifying 
to him to find himself in such demand, and to 
have some of the best appointments of the 
church profered him, but he declined the Normal 
professorship, as well as the transfer. 

Conference of 1867 met at Morganton, North 
Carolina. Bishop Doggett presided. Nothing 
hitherto, had exhibited so much the sufferings 
and privations of the war, and the subsequent 
repressive measures of the United States Govern- 
ment as this Conference. The people everywhere 
had been corrupted or demoralized by the war. 
Eeligion was at a low ebb, and preachers of the 
Gospel poorly paid; many of them on that 
account being unable to get to Conference; and 
those who were in attendance were generally 
poorly clad and despondent in feeling. At the 
previous Conference Mr. Mood had been ap- 
pointed to preach the annual sermon at this ses- 
sion. He prepared his discourse carefully and 
prayerfully, endeavoring to suit it to the needs 
of his hearers. The occasion was blessed of the 
Lord. The preachers seemed greatly encour- 
aged by the discourse, and on the next day 
honored him with the request of a copy for pub- 
lication. 



TEE CALL TO TEXAS. 



The text was taken from II Corinthians, ch. 
V, ver. 14. — "The Love of Christ constraineth 
us." After an exposition of the text, he closed 
the sermon by alluding to the many sufferings 
and trials through which St. Paul was called to 
pass, and applied the apostle's encouraging 
words to the immediate circumstances of his 
hearers. 

Towards the close of the Conference, at one 
session of the Bishop's Council, the Bishop asked 
Mr. Mood to retire for a while; upon his being 
recalled he was informed that the presiding 
elders had unanimously recommended him to 
the pastorate of Trinity Church. Mr. Mood re- 
presented to the Bishop the difficulties he thought 
to be in the way of this' appointment, but it stood 
confirmed and was announced. This was a great, 
a very great trial for Mr. Mood. He had been for 
years preaching in the city. The people were 
familiar with him and his manner of preaching. 
He saw that there was a great work to be done 
if he were only equal to the occasion, but au- 
thority had decreed that he should go, and he 
determined to obey. 

During the year 1867, he had felt very un- 
happy over the previous secularization of his 
time which the contingencies of the war had 
made necessary; but he felt that now the coun- 
try was recovering from the effects of the war, 



264 DB. MOOD. 



and that the people would support the Gospel. 
He, therefore, resolved, that from this time for- 
ward he would let go everything but the work 
of the regular ministry. 

He entered upon his labors as pastor of 
Trinity Church, meeting with some annoyances 
that gave him anxiety and distress; yet he went 
forward in God's name and endeavored to do 
his duty. , 

His ministry was well received and largely 
attended. In the summer, a gracious work de- 
veloped, resulting in the conversion of about a 
score of souls with numerous accessions, and a 
great quickening of the spirituality of the 
Church. 

In the winter of 1868, and about the time that 
he had entered regularly upon his pastorate, he 
received a letter from the Board of Trustees, of 
Soule University, offering him the Presidency 
of that institution. He had, however, just en- 
tered upon his year's work, and had no thought 
of leaving the South Carolina Conference, where 
he had such warm and endearing associations, 
— and which had so frequently recognized his 
talents, by placing him in positions of honor; so 
he declined the position. 

In the fall of this year the trustees renewed 
their call, accompanying it with a letter from 
Bishop McTyiere urging him to accept the posi- 



TEE CALL TO TEXAS. 265 

tion. This was followed by a letter from Bishop 
Andrew, who also advised him to respond favor- 
ably to the call, c 'If South Carolina could spare 
him, which he doubted." 

All of this put the matter in a new light. The 
advice to accept coming from such high sources 
that he could no longer treat the question with 
indifference. He says: "After much correspond- 
ence, consultation with friends, anxious thought 
and earnest prayer, I determined to respond 
favorably to a call that seemed to come through 
the Church from Him, 'whose I am and whom I 
serve.'" 

The announcement of his intention to go to 
Texas, showed how numerous were his friends, 
and the strong hold he had upon their affections. 
These were numbered in the city and country, 
among laymen and brethren with whom he had 
served in the ministry for eighteen years; and 
from them, in all parts of the state he received 
letters and messages either urging him to remain 
or regretting his loss to them, should duty call 
him away. 

On Sunday morning, November 8th, 1868, he 
preached the closing sermon of his pastorate in 
South Carolina. It had been announced in the 
city papers that this would be his last discourse 
and a very large congregation filled the spacious 
house; — for not only his friends in the Methodist 



266 DM. MOOD. 



ranks, were there, but he saw present, many of 
the members of the Unitarian and Huguenot 
congregations whom he had served. His text 
was, u God forbid that I should glory, save in 
the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ." Gal. VI, 
ver. 14. The Lord helped him, he spoke with 
great power and the congregation was deeply 
moved. 

On the following Thursday morning, he, with 
his wife and three children, — for his second 
daughter Maggie had been born some months 
before — bade a last farewell to relatives and 
friends, went aboard the cars and were off to a 
distant state where he was to enter upon a new 
and untried field of labor. 



* CHAPTER XIX. 



RUTERVILLE, WESLEYAN, M KENZIE, SOULE. 

Rev. Martin L. Ruter, D.D., was the first man 
to take active steps towards the founding of a 
religious institution for higher education in 
Texas. He has been called the Apostle of 
Methodism to Texas. In science and philosophy 
he was profound; an accomplished linguist, he 
read the Scriptures in nine different languages. 
He was an author of note. He had held many 
positions of trust and eminence in the gift of 
the Church, and he had been the president of 
two colleges. He felt called to this new repub- 
lic, and he offered himself in all the ripeness of 
his manhood and crowned with many successes, 
for Texas work. On July 25, 1837, he was ap- 
appointed Superintendent of the first Methodist 
Mission to the then Republic. 

He crossed the Sabine on the 23d of the fol- 
lowing November, and that night met Rev. 
Robert Alexander, who had preceded him only 
a few months to their appointed field of labor. 
In one of his letters, written soon after entering 

* A small pamphlet written by Dr. Mood in 1882, styled, "A 
narrative of the facts relating to the founding of Southwestern 
University" has been freely used in the preparation of this and the 
following chapters. 



DR MOOD. 



upon this work, he says: "My labors in Texas 
will be directed to forming societies and cir- 
cuits, establishing schools, and making arrange- 
ments for a college or university." 

He went so far, in pursuance of this last idea, 
as to solicit donations of land for this enterprise, 
and he drew up several articles of a charter to 
be laid before the next Congress for their ap- 
proval — calling the projected institution Bastrop 
University, intending to locate it in the town of 
Bastrop. 

He entered upon his new work with an en- 
thusiasm and zeal too great for his physical 
powers; for before he had labored six months 
the imprudent exposures to a strange climate 
had their effects; he was attacked by fever, and 
died at Washington, Texas, May 16, 1838. 

He left the educational idea deeply impressed 
on many minds; and immediately after his 
death a company was organized, the Ruterville 
league of land purchased, and a school started. 

In less than two years from the opening of 
this school Ruterville College was chartered by 
the Congress of Texas and endowed with four 
leagues of land. The charter was signed Janu- 
ary 25, 1840, eleven months to a day before the 
first Conference assembled, showing that the 
educational movement in some sense antedated 
the Conference organization. Ruterville College 



RUTERY1LLE TO 80ULE. 



had been founded by the united efforts of the 
first Methodists in Texas, and it was a fitting 
monument to the great and good man whose 
name it bore, as it was intended to be the reali- 
zation of his best conception in his new field of 
labor. Kev. Chauncy Eichardson, a gentleman 
who had already made a reputation as a scholar, 
an educator and a preacher, was called to the 
presidency of this institution. 

This college, thus early organized, equipped, 
and manned, had every prospect of permanency 
and success. Its land grants were added to by 
the liberality of private individuals. It opened 
prosperously and for some years lived in a 
flourishing condition, doubtless accomplishing 
great good. 

It is evident from the terms of the charter of 
Ruterville College that either very few had any- 
thing like an adequate conception of what a 
college should be, or else the Members of Con- 
gress determined, that so far as they were able, 
to control, no sectarian institution of learning 
should have even a tolerable existence within 
the domain of the new republic. It is probable 
that the latter was not the case, for the charter 
was granted and was exceedingly liberal in many 
respects, still it contained this proviso that, 
u The amount of property owned by said Corpo- 
ration shall not at any time exceed twenty-five 



270 DR. MOOD. 



thousand dollars," and the corporate life was 
limited to ' 'ten years. " The college failed, not 
of necessity, it would seem to one carefully 
weighing its many advantages against its dis- 
advantages, but because those in the lead of the 
enterprise yielded too readily to the discourage- 
ments, difficulties and disappointments that un- 
avoidably arise in every such undertaking. The 
church was not held as a unit to this one institu- 
tion, but instead of centralizing its efforts to the 
support and improvement of Ruterville College, 
making it worthy of its name and an honor to 
Methodism, we find that it had been in opera- 
tion but four years, in fact, it could scarcely 
have gotten well to work, but was yet strug- 
gling with the difficulties incident to a new 
enterprise, when it was proposed to build, 
equip, launch and man another college. Thus 
the interest of the church was divided, and it 
seems from the final disposition of the property 
that local influences became more powerful than 
connectional control; for on the 6th of August, 
1856, Ruterville College, with all of its property, 
was consolidated by the Legislature of Texas 
with the "Texas Monumental Association." 
This was done contrary to the express provision 
of the original charter, "That the lands donated 
by the State should be applied to education, and 
to no other purpose whatever." 



RUTERVILLE TO 80 VLB. 271 

Wesleyan College located at San Augustine 
was the second venture of Texas Methodism, its 
charter being granted by the Congress of Texas 
on January 16, 1844. This institution was estab- 
lished on a broader scale than was Euterville, in 
its organization. It had the advantage of more 
enlarged views, and the terms of its charter 
were far more liberal, than those granted that 
institution. Kev. Lester Jones was appointed 
President of the College and Eev. N. W. Burks 
principal of the preparatory school. To this 
new educational enterprise a number of young 
people flocked, and everything seemed to indi- 
cate permanency and success. For five years 
this institution was under the direct patronage 
and supervision of the East Texas Conference. 
But it gradually succumbed to difficulties and 
discouragements, and finally Ichabod was 
stamped upon the enterprise. 

About the time that these public and more 
pretentious institutions were being projected and 
organized, an unassuming Methodist preacher, 
yet in the prime of life, but whose health had 
failed under his arduous ministerial labors, 
sought rest in an humble home four miles west 
of Clarksville in Ked Eiver County. Convenient 
to his home was a log cabin and here he opened 
a little school with sixteen urchins in attendance. 
This modest movement by Rev. J. W. P. Mc- 



272 DR. MOOD. 



Kenzie, in the fall of 1841, at first scarcely 
attracting the attention of the neighborhood, 
began from its incipiency a slow and healthy 
growth. Its projector had no lofty aim or ex- 
tensive plan. He was intent upon honoring God 
in the conduct of his school, and bringing all 
who were placed in his charge under distinctive 
religious influences. By this course the school 
made not only reputation, but character. It 
grew so surely and rapidly that u a dozen years 
had scarce elapsed when the eye of the state and 
adjacent states and territory was directed thith- 
erward for educational purposes. The log cabin 
had given place to four large buildings, with a 
capacity for three hundred boarding students. 
Itinerant Retreat, as the school was first called, 
had become McKenzie College, with professors 
and tutors, library and laboratory. For thirty 
years this institution prospered, until more than 
three thousand students had worshiped at her 
altars and sipped at her fountains of learning. 
The founder has gone to his reward, the pro- 
perty has reverted to the family, and the fruits 
of his labors are seen in church and state." 

After the annexation the increase in popula- 
tion, and progress in material prosperity, was 
marked and rapid. The church made corre- 
sponding progress, for the early band of mis- 
sionaries had been added to, until there were 



RUTERVILLE TO 80ULE. 273 

two annual conferences within the bounds of 
the state. In the lower counties, where flour- 
ished the sugar cane and cotton, were many 
wealthy Methodists who were anxiously looking 
about for the best educational advantages. Mc- 
Kenzie College was the only Methodist institu- 
tion in Texas where a collegiate education could 
be obtained, but it was so far removed from 
these centers of wealth and population, that with 
the inconveniences of travel in that day it was 
practically inaccessible to many. The demand 
for an institution of high grade, projected and 
controlled by the church, seemed in the minds 
of many to have been increased by the failures 
of the first attempts. This thought, after due 
deliberation was acted upon, and in 1855, a con- 
vention of delegates from the boundaries of the 
Texas Conference assembled in Chappell Hill to 
consider the question, and by its action Soule 
University, an entirely new enterprise, was 
inaugurated, and shortly afterwards began its 
operations under more promising circumstances 
than either of its ill-fated predecessors. 

This institution, located at Chappell Hill, was 
sustained by some of the most enterprising and 
wealthy citizens of the state. Its building was 
substantial and commodious. Two chairs of 
instruction had been handsomely endowed; 
nothing of a material character was wanting to 



274 BR. MOOD. 



secure success, and the projectors of the enter- 
prise seemed anxious to meet all conditions of 
success. The halls were thrown open for students 
in 1856, and up to that time, no educational 
enterprise of the Church South had been pro- 
jected under more favorable auspices. But in 
less than four years from the day of its opening 
the workings of this institution were interrupted 
by the opening of the civil war. The young 
men of the South were among the first to volun- 
teer for the service, and the President of Soule 
University, G. W. Carter, D.D., having secured 
the position of colonel in the army, took his 
students to the field, leaving the halls of learn- 
ing silent and deserted. This building, like 
nearly all similar buildings throughout the 
South, was converted into a military hospital, 
and at the close of the war it was defaced and 
dilapidated — without furniture, apparatus, en- 
dowment, library, faculty or students. 

In 1865 its halls were reopened for instruction. 
The institution seemed to be in a fair way to 
regain its former prosperity when in the fall of 
1866 yellow fever made its appearance at the 
coast and began spreading to the interior. 
Chappell Hill was reached and was swept by the 
scourge; professors and students were stricken 
down or else fled from the town and the halls of 
Soule University were again silent. 



R UTER VILLE 10 SOULE. 275 

But the trustees were stout-hearted, and they 
determined to again renew the effort, so we see 
them in 1868 offering the presidency of the Uni- 
versity to Rev. F. A. Mood, and the position, 
though at first declined, afterwards was accepted 
by him. 



CHAPTER XX. 

PRESIDENT SOULE UNIVERSITY. 

Mr. Mood reached Chappell Hill November 
17th, 1869, and was kindly received at the depot 
by Rev. R. W. Kennon, President of the Board 
of Trustees of Soule University, and Mr. M. 
Northington, Treasurer, to whose house he was 
taken. On the day following, the Board of 
Trustees, with Rev. R. W. Kennon, as President, 
met in full force and by resolution extended to 
him a hearty welcome; by further action they 
placed the whole matter in his hands, and then — 
they dispersed. 

Rev. W. G. Connor, D.D., who had pre- 
ceded him to Texas, and who had charge of the 
Female College in the town, took Mr. Mood 
and family to his own home, and kindly enter- 
tained them, in this introduction to his new 
work, until he could suit himself in a house and 
make all necessary arrangements for moving 
into it. 

That night a heavy rain fell. The next morn- 
ing, in sallying forth to examine the surround- 
ings of the work which the trustees seemed so 
ready to "place entirely in his hands," he met 



SO TTLE UNIVERSITY. 277 

his first discouragement in Texas mud. Strug- 
gling on through this difficulty he reached the 
university building. It was of rock, large and 
rather unsightly. Entering, here was an occa- 
sion for dismay: the rain had poured through 
the leaky roof, and the water was dripping from 
dome to basement, the entire house being dark 
and musty. He now began to realize how much 
the trustees had placed in his hands. 

The general condition of the town he found to 
be about as deplorable as the university build- 
ing. Yellow fever had swept away entire fami- 
lies, and many others had sought more healthy 
locations, in the middle and upper portions of 
the state. 

Chappel Hill, just at this time, was greatly 
depleted. As an illustration of the state of 
affairs he had six houses placed at his disposal, 
rent free. 

He began to look into the history of the edu- 
cational movements of the Church in Texas and 
he discovered that every past effort had been 
marked by failure — even when begun under the 
most flattering prospects of success. In his 
correspondence with the Trustees and Bishops, 
it seemed to be assumed that Soule University 
had been projected and recognized as the 
central institution of Methodism for the state. 
This assumption was supported neither by the 



m DM. MOOD. 



facts of its establishment nor by the general 
sentiments of the Church. The Texas Confer- 
ence was the only one that was in any way com- 
mitted to its support, and the prejudices against 
its location, from the visitations of yellow fever, 
rendered the prospects of anything like a liberal 
patronage from the state at large exceedingly 
gloomy. 

As soon as Mr. Mood could make all neces- 
sary arrangements for settling himself in his 
new home, he was compelled to hurry down to 
Brenham, to be present at the meeting of the 
Texas Conference, of which he was now to be 
a member, and which convened November 25, 
1868. Bishop Doggett, who presided the year 
before at the South Carolina Conference, pre- 
sided on this occasion. He knew Mr. Mood's 
status at his old home, and he introduced him 
to the Texans, being careful to state that it was 
from no discount in South Carolina that he had 
been sent to Texas. 

He found the Conference a noble band of 
"Western Cavaliers," where towering still 
above his fellows was that Nestor of Texas 
Methodism, the venerable Robert Alexander, 
who along with Thrall and Whipple and DeVil- 
biss, and others of their veteran compeers, were 
among the few who remained of the heroic 
band that first came to reclaim this vast common. 



SOVLB UNIVERSITY. 279 

wealth, by preaching Jesus and the resurrection. 
They came with the early settlers, and contin- 
ued their ministrations through the changing 
fortunes of their chosen field, under the Lone 
Star Republic; under annexation to the United 
States; under the stars and bars of the Confed- 
eracy, and again under the Union. 

Through all the political disturbances, these 
intelligent, hardy, self-sacrificing men of God, 
had been "instant in season and out of season ." 
"In all things approving themselves as the 
ministers of God, in much patience, in afflic- 
tions, in necessities, in distresses, * * * * 
in tumults, in labors, in watchings, in fastings ; 
by pureness, by knowledge, by long-suffering, 
by kindness, by the Holy Ghost, by love un- 
feigned, by the word of truth, by the power of 
God, by the armor of righteousness on the right 
hand and on the left. * * * * As sorrow- 
ful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making 
many rich; as having nothing, and yet possess, 
ing all things." They were "strong in the Lord 
and in the power of his might" — they were yet 
wrestling, against sin, and "spiritual wicked- 
ness in high places," for they had not grown 
weary in the service. Theirs was now a blessed 
lot; they had planted the Gospel and the Lord 
had "established the work of their hands," and 
they were yet witnessing abundant harvests of 



280 DR. MOOD. 



redeemed souls as the fruit of their labors. 

The Conference listened patiently and kindly 
to all that President Mood had to propose, and 
they adopted unanimously the plans submitted 
for the revival of their dead University. 
Though the action was unanimous, he knew 
enough of such bodies to keep in mind, that 
resolutions at Conference and active efforts 
through the year were two totally different 
things. Indeed he found out afterwards that 
his new-born zeal for the University was a 
source of great merriment to several of the 
body, at the close of that day's session, so hope- 
less to them was the outlook. 

Bishop Doggett, after carefully looking into 
the enterprise, and seeing the great work to 
be accomplished, said privately to Mr. Mood, 
u That in undertaking to resuscitate a dead in- 
stitution, he was assuming a more difficult task, 
than if he were attempting to found a new one. " 
But discouragements did not stop here, for 
meeting a majority of the Trustees at Confer- 
ence, he submitted to them the estimate of the 
tinner, for repairing the roof. This amounted 
to one hundred and fifty dollars. They returned 
it to him, telling him that they did not have a 
dollar in the treasury, and that he might as well 
ask for thousands as hundreds. 

When the report of the Committee on educa- 



SOULE TJNIVEBSITY. 28i 

tion, came up, a mysterious conversation ensued 
on the floor of the Conference which developed 
to his horror striken mind, the appalling fact 
that a debt aggregating $17,000.00 was hanging 
over the old, dilapidated, defaced and leaky 
establishment. This was a severe blow to his 
spirits, for he had received the idea that the only 
redeeming feature of the University was its 
entire immunity from debt. 

He returned to Chappell Hill, in a very de- 
spondent frame of mind, as may be imagined. 
Soon after reaching home, he met Capt. Thomas 
Smith, formerly from Wadesboro, North Caro- 
lina, and whom he had known there in years 
gone by. He found in the captain a warm and 
sympathizing friend, and a providential help in 
this dark hour of distress. The captain divined 
the true state of Mr. Mood's mind and intimated 
that he had a desperate enterprise in hand, but 
told Mr. Mood to call upon him without reserve, 
and that he would give him aid to the extent of 
his ability. Accordingly at his request Captain 
Smith secured for him a tinners furnace and 
about twenty pounds of solder. Meantime, one 
of the faculty, Prof. B. E. Chrietzberg, then but 
lately from Woflbrd College, South Carolina, 
arrived. So we see the Eev. President and dig- 
nified professor sprawling over the roof, with 
furnace and soldering irons hunting for holes. 



DM. MOOD. 



stopping the leaks, and soldering the parted 
seams. They did a good job, for when it was 
completed, they found the roof to be rain-proof, 
and for years afterwards it did not require a 
dollar's outlay for repairs. 

In accordance with advertisements, and cir- 
culars sent out, the institution would be opened 
for students on Monday, January 2d, 1869. 
This new regime would be inaugurated by an 
address from the President elect, to the officers 
of the institution, the students and the citizens. 
He afterwards described the opening as follows: 

"We went over to the University building at 
the appointed hour, — for the entire staff of 
instructors were living in the same house; and 
then what? We found some four trustees, about 
ten citizens and some twenty-six little urchins! 
Here was the enthusiasm of a new opening! 
Here were the students we were to send forth to 
represent the "Great Central Methodist Uni- 
versity of Texas." I gravely delivered my ad- 
dress from manuscript, in the great open, cold 
chapel, to this overwhelming audience, — over- 
whelming in its diminutiveness in every sense. 
But why be down-hearted? Had we not a big 
building? A tight roof? and twenty-six little 
boys to begin with? We arranged our classes, 
I secured a good sleek strap, which we found 



SOULE UNIVERSITY. 



out on the first day, that we would need. — and 
started to conduct a University ." 

The faculty were given to understand that 
they must look to tuition fees alone, for their 
salaries, and they had agreed to share in the 
failure or success, the growth or decline, of the 
University. The money that had been sent by 
the trustees to Mr. Mood, for his transportation 
to Texas in response to their call, turned out to 
be an advance loan to be taken out of the tuition. 
This amount, when deducted out of the meagre 
income, made it very close living for him to keep 
out of debt. He soon fell into routine work, 
the first term was, in many respects, irregular, 
and it closed without public demonstration in 
the following June. As soon as vacation came, 
Mr. Mood, with borrowed buggy and mules, set 
out to make the acquaintance of Texas, and stir 
up patronage. 

His pen was not idle during these months, 
though much of his time was occupied by his 
professional duties. He ably discussed the lead- 
ing topics of -the times, and at intervals he gave 
his impressions of Texas, writing of the variable 
population, the social peculiarities, the prairies, 
the mud, and the climate. He thus discourses 
of the norther: 

"The unique feature of Texas climatology is 
its famed "northers." My wife had never heard 



284 DR. MOOD. 



of Texas northers, and I shall not soon forget 
her look of excitement a few days after reaching 
Chappell Hill, when our kind hostess remarked 
with some emphasis: "I believe a norther is 
coming." "A what?" exclaimed the newly 
arrived, privately confessing to me afterwards, 
that she feared something frightful was about 
to occur. That afternoon a stiff norther set in, 
and I found my little boy peering through the 
north door with the brave trepidation of a child, 
his eyes watery from the keen, cold wind. 
"What are you looking at my son?" "I am 
looking for the norther." He was not a little 
perplexed when we told him that the norther 
had already come, and had gotten in his eyes. 

"What sights' and sounds accompanied it. 
With a whoop and a roar its stenatorian voice 
was heard shouting at the chimney-top. In pip- 
ing tones it screamed and shrieked at every 
door-crack. In gruff, hoarse, baritone it called 
from the house-top. It lisped, and whistled and 
muttered, and jabbered at every key-hole. It 
growled, and snored, and croaked at every cre- 
vice. It wheezed and whiffled, sneezed and 
snuffed at every broken window pane. It rolled 
and rumbled around the house-corners. It rat- 
tled and shook, hammered and rustled at every 
window-sash. It snapped, and clashed and banged 
and clapped, and crashed at every unfastened 



80V LE UNIVERSITY. 285 

door |and window. It rushed along, abruptly 
knocking off our hats, mischievously tumbling 
down rickety fences, ruthlessly upsetting hen- 
coops, irreverently uncovering bald-heads, and 
ungallantly twirling the ladies in their walks. 
The cattle panic-stricken at its paroxysms of 
rage fled lowing to the timber; the sheep told 
the story of their rough treatment at its hands 
in plaintive bleatings; the fowls hasted for shel- 
ter from its rude grasp, and the calves and 
ponies meekly bowed their heads at its approach 
and stood shivering under the lee of houses and 
fences. 

"In long drawn sighs it warned us of its com- 
ing, in gusty blasts it shouted its arrival; in 
tempestuous squalls it screamed its continuance; 
in strong opera and hysteric laughter it told its 
departure. 

"Never have I seen greater activity through- 
out all nature than the day old Boreas paid us 
his first visit in Texas." 



CHAPTER XXI. 

A CENTRAL INSTITUTION. 

At the opening of the session in September 
1869, the enrollment of pupils was increased, 
and some ten or twelve students of collegiate 
grade were matriculated. 

Shortly after the session opened yellow fever 
made its appearance in Galveston and extended 
to Houston. This was an imminent danger to 
the farther prosperity of the institution, in the 
face of what had occurred at Chappell Hill only 
two years before. The minds of the students 
were awakened to this danger and their fears 
would not be allayed. A few days after the 
alarming reports reached them, the stationed 
preacher at Brenham came through Chappell 
Hill in his hack, and reported that yellow fever 
had broken out in Hempstead — seven miles 
off— that he was flying from the pestilence, and 
he advised the Faculty and students to do like- 
wise. This added to the excitement until it 
amounted almost to a panic among the students 
and citizens. All of Mr. Mood's efforts to allay 
the alarm of the students proved futile. He 
was thrown almost into despair, for just as he 



A CENTRAL INSTITUTION. 287 

began to hope for the upbuilding of the Uni- 
versity this climacteric disaster came. The day 
was spent in great anxiety, the night in sleep- 
less vigilance, thinking, praying, almost de- 
sponding. His hope and labor appeared in 
vain. The epidemic was likely to return with 
every year, and with its appearance the work 
of instruction must be suspended, for the stu- 
dents would disband. No institution that 
claimed to be a University, asking for the col- 
lecting of the youth from all parts of the state 
could succeed in the face of these dreadful in- 
terruptions. What was to be done? * These 
clouds were hanging low over his mind, when 
suddenly there flashed upon him a perfectly 
clear, and what seemed to be feasible plan for 
the establishment of the Institution of Learning, 
needed for Methodism in Texas. This concep- 
tion grew upon him. He at once began to act 
upon this thought, for such was his nature. The 
Board of Trustees were immediately called 
together, and a paper, addressed to the several 
Annual Conferences of the state proposing a 
convention for the consideration of the matter, 
was submitted to them for their consideration 
and adoption. 

It was a memorable night — October 4, 1869 — 
a larger number than usual were present. They 
met in President Mood's recitation-room, and 



288 DM. MOOD. 



after devotional exercises, the President read 
his paper with preamble and propositions. It 
was a serious moment, big with an important 
enterprise. The President urged its adoption 
with all the earnestness and eloquence of clear 
convictions. The discussion was long, but after 
protracted consideration, with but one dissent- 
ing voice, the paper was put on record as the 
sentiment of the Board. 

The report that yellow fever was at Hemp- 
stead was contradicted, and the panic subsided. 
There was never another day, than the one on 
which action was taken, that he could have suc- 
ceeded with the Board as he did. This action 
sealed the doom of Soule University as the 
central institution of Texas Methodism, but it 
was the first step towards laying the foundation 
of its representative in more desirable and prom- 
ising form elsewhere. 

Bearing this document, he hastened over to a 
camp-meeting near Bryan, to see Dr. Robert 
Alexander, the leading spirit in his Conference, 
in order to enlist his sympathies and co-opera- 
tion. A private interview was secured and the 
plans laid before him. The old hero scouted the 
movement as visionary, and without qualification 
emphatically declared it "an impossibility to 
unite the five Texas Conferences on anything. " 
But his convictions were so overmastering that 



A CENTRAL INSTITUTION. 289 

Dr. Alexander's opinion failed to impress him 
to any great extent. He felt that there were 
two facts in favor of this effort. First, not a 
Methodist institution for the higher education 
of male youth, excepting the one of which he 
was president, was in existence in the state, 
even McKenzie College had about succumbed 
to the misfortunes of the war, and the advanced 
age and consequent infirmities of its honored 
founder. Secondly, there was not a man — min- 
ister or layman — who appeared disposed to 
hazard health, fame, and fortune in another at- 
tempt to establish one. There was a demand 
for such an institution, and there was a grand 
monopoly of sacrifice and toil open to the man 
who wished to possess it. 

Soon after his interview with Dr. Alexander, 
he started for Henderson, the seat of the East 
Texas Conference, which was to meet October 
20, being the first of the Texas Conferences to 
convene that year. He had written to Bishop 
Wightman, detailing his plans, and invoking 
the Bishop's aid in presenting the matter to the 
several Conferences, as he was to preside. The 
Bishop wrote him discouragingly, expressing 
the opinion that he had overmatched his 
strength in attempting to secure the union of 
five Western Conferences on such an important 
measure. But it was right along here that Dr. 



290 DR. MOOD. 



Alexander and Bishop Wightman were at 
fault, for as President Mood afterwards said: 
"I had not started to measure my strength on 
this or any other subject, but to measure the 
strength of simple truth plainly presented, and 
accompanied, as I hoped it would be, in answer 
to my prayers, by the illuminations and convic- 
tions of His blessed Spirit." 

Henderson was reached by stage, and though 
much fatigued, he at once secured a reading of 
the propositions and their reference to the Com- 
mittee on education. Meeting the committee in 
the afternoon he was greeted with the disagree- 
able statement that they " would not touch it;" 
to which he replied confidentially, "Oh yes you 
will," and proceeded at once to elaborate the 
plan and urge the matter. The committee first 
became convinced, and then enthusiastic. They 
reported favorably on the measure; the enthu- 
siasm became infectious and it was heartily and 
unanimously adopted by the Conference. This 
fired the heart of the good Bishop, who followed 
the vote by one of his terse, eloquent and earnest 
appeals for zeal and unity in the movement. 

The Trinity (North Texas) Conference which 
met at Paris, November 3d, passed through 
very much the same process; — at first, doubtful 
of the feasibility of the enterprise, they were re- 
luctant to entertain the measure and then heartily 



A CENTRAL INSTITUTION. 291 

acquiescing, to be greeted by another earnest 
speech from the Bishop. 

At Weather ford, where the North-west Texas 
Conference convened November 17th, the ex- 
ample of the other Conferences had had its 
effect, and when the report came favorably 
from the Committee, the Bishop led in an earn- 
est speech, and amid much enthusiasm the prop- 
ositions were adopted. Next the West Texas 
at Goliad, on December 8th, and finally the 
Texas, at LaGrange, on December 22d, in turn, 
adopted the propositions. 

The preamble and propositions, show how 
thoroughly he studied the question, and how 
carefully he had weighed every point. After 
being amended by the Conferences in a few un- 
important particulars they were as follows: 

Whereas, It is of vital importance to Southern 
Methodism, as well as the general interests of 
religion and education in Texas, that there be an 
institution of learning, that will, by its endow- 
ments, cheapen higher education and by its other 
advantages secure general confidence and patron- 
age; and 

Whereas, Under existing circumstances, from 
its heavy cost, many of the most worthy young 
men of the state are denied the desired advan- 
tages of education; and 

Whereas, In the absence of an institution of 



292 DR. MOOD. 



this character large numbers of the young men 
of the Church are being yearly sent out of the 
State to secular and sectarian institutions, entail- 
ing great loss to the membership and influence 
of our Church, besides withdrawing from the 
limits of the State large amounts of money that 
should be expended in building up education at 
home; and 

Whereas, The magnitude of the work of es- 
tablishing such an institution involves a demand 
for patronage and an expenditure for liberal 
endowment much greater than can be met by 
any single Conference; and 

Whereas, Soule University, though originally 
projected to meet this great want, has up to this 
date, through the calamities of war, and other 
untoward events, only partially secured this 
end; and 

Whereas, The field being comparatively unoc- 
cupied invites to prompt, unselfish, zealous and 
liberal effort to meet this great demand that 
is now upon the Church; and 

Whereas, A union of effort of the thirty thou- 
sand Methodists in Texas ought to secure, with- 
out possibility of failure, the establishment of 
an institution of the highest grade with ample 
endowment and the most liberal facilities for 
widespread usefulness; therefore 
Resolved, By this Board, humbly invoking 



A CENTRAL INSTITUTION. 293 

the guidance and approval of Almighty God, 
and with a single eye to His glory, that the 
several annual Conferences of the Methodist 
Episcopal Church, South, in Texas, be invited 
at their ensuing sessions to concur in the follow- 
ing 

PROPOSITIONS. 

1. That an Educational Convention of the 
several Conferences of the Methodist Episcopal 
Church, South, in Texas, shall be called to meet 
at Galveston, April 20th, 1870, consisting of the 
delegates elect, lay and clerical, to our ensuing 
general Conference. 

2. That to this convention, thus constituted, 
be committed the duty of arranging for organi- 
zation, location and endowment of a University 
for the South-west, to be under the patronage 
and control of the Conferences of the State, and 
such other Conferences as may hereafter desire 
to co-operate with them. 

3. That the different male institutions organ- 
ized or projected under the auspices of our 
Church throughout the State be invited to send 
deputations to the Convention, to present their 
several claims for its consideration. 

4. That the delegates from each Conference 
proceed immediately upon their appointment, to 
invite proposals for the most eligible site within 
their bounds. 



BR MOOD. 



5. That the several Conferences concurring, if 
deemed practical, the Bishop appoint an agent, 
who shall proceed forthwith to assist in raising 
endowment. 

6. The convention, as far as practical, arrange 
for a homogeneous system of advanced schools 
preparatory to the University. 

1. That each Conference concurring pledge 
its adherence to the action of the Convention, 
and its hearty support of its decisions without 
reference to personal or local preferences. 

8. That in the votes of the Convention upon 
location, the delegates vote by Conference, a 
majority being required to decide the question. 
• In the adoption of these propositions the first 
great decisive step was successfully taken. The 
Providence of God to him, as he made the round 
of the Conferences, had been very wonderful. 

He started to Henderson with limited means, 
but as he passed along, under the interest awak- 
ened in his enterprise, and sympathy enlisted in 
his cause, without it so much as ever having en- 
tered his mind to ask for it, brethren voluntarily 
gathered sums of money and handed it to him 
to assist in defraying his traveling expenses so 
that he was enabled to return home without 
incurring any debts. 

At the Texas Conference, when the appoint- 
ments were read, he was announced as Presi- 



A CENTRAL INSTITUTION. 295 

dent of Soule University and as pastor of the 
Church at Brenham — a town ten miles from 
Chappell Hill. 

With a heart full of gratitude to God for His 
providences, he returned to his presidency and 
pastorate and to await the meeting of the Con- 
vention appointed for the following April. 

The appointment to the Church at Brenham 
brought him relief in the matter of his support, 
but greatly increased his labors. 

It required study to be prepared to discharge 
his professional duties in a satisfactory manner, 
and two or three sermons a week to be preached 
to an intelligent congregation demanded ad- 
ditional application. 

He secured a little black pony upon which he 
rode to the University on Friday, and as soon 
as the exercises of the day were ended he would 
start for Brenham, arriving there about dark. 
He went at once to the Church where he con- 
ducted the weekly prayer meeting. Saturday 
was devoted to pastoral visiting. He attended 
the Sabbath School at nine o'clock the next 
morning — preached at eleven, and again at 
night. After preaching he generally rode back 
to Chappell Hill that night so as to be ready for 
duty the next morning. Once a month, on 
Sunday afternoon, he preached a sermon to the 
children — they were always a precious charge 



296 DR. MOOD. 



to him. Besides these duties he not unfrequently 
assisted the preacher in his duties at Chappell 
Hill. In a letter written at this time he says: 
' 'My labors are still very severe, but I believe 
I never was heartier in my life. I believe that 
I have always been healthy when I was so situ- 
ated as to observe regular habits of life. We 
rise at five. I get over to the University by 
half past eight, return about half past twelve. 
I go back at two, am engaged until half past 
four, and then I am employed at home.!' 

On March 28, 1870, the degree of Doctor of 
Divinity was conferred on President Mood, by 
his Alma Mater, Charleston College. 

The proposed Convention assembled pursu- 
ant to appointment in Ryland Chapel, Galves- 
ton. There were present both lay and clerical 
delegates from each of the five Texas Confer- 
ences. It was of necessity, under the first prop- 
osition, a representative body. 

Rev. R. Alexander, D.D., was chosen Presi- 
dent, and Rev. F. A. Mood, D.D., Secretary. 
Dr. Mood was without doubt the guiding spirit 
of the Convention, directing the deliberations 
and shaping the action of the body. He found 
himself in the minority on more than one 
question, but he succeeded eventually in show- 
ing himself to be in the right, and thereby in 
carrying his every point. 



A CENTRAL INSTITUTION. 297 

The question of the location of the institution 
first engaged the attention of the Convention. 
Dr. Mood succeeded in having this question 
postponed for future action and the great wis- 
dom in this delay soon became apparent. South- 
western University, the first name proposed for 
the institution, offered by Dr. Mood, was lost. 
Then Soule was proposed and also lost. Finally 
Texas was proposed, and this name was adopted, 
the Committee on Charter being instructed to 
call the institution "The Texas University." 
The Convention then declared the union of all 
the Conferences in the movement, and a liberal 
endowment to be indispensable for the establish- 
ment of the institution. 

Thus the second great step was successfully 
taken. Dr. Mood felt no exultation here, for 
this action was a forgone conclusion before the 
Convention met. 

Upon adjournment, Dr. Alexander, who from 
the president's chair had noted the harmonious 
action which made the institution now in name 
a verity — took Dr. Mood back of the Church, 
and embracing him, said, with eyes swimming 
in tears: "I never expected to live to see this 
day." 

Conference met at Chappell Hill. Bishop 
Marvin presided. Dr. Mood was reappointed 
as the pastor at Brenham, as well as President 



298 DR. MOOD. 



of Soule University. The Convention was called 
together at Waxahachie in the following April. 
It was presided over by Bishop Marvin, who 
had remained in Texas. His presidency and 
wise counsel proved a benediction to the move- 
ment. 

Dr. Mood felt his personal connection with 
this Convention to be one of the most trying 
and responsible occasions of his life. 

The effort to locate the proposed institution 
at places where it would be embarrassed by 
debt, or threatened by disease, with the vague 
comprehension of the proposed movement by 
the Church at large, compelled him to oppose 
location with all the power of persuasion that 
he possessed. Waxahachie was laboring to 
secure the location, the college there was named 
for the president of the Convention, and a 
majority of the Convention favored immediate 
location at that point. Dr. Mood's judgment 
was against immediate location at any point, 
and he followed its dictates, but it was only by 
insisting upon the enforcement of the eighth 
restrictive rule that the catastrophe of premature 
location was prevented. When the vote was 
taken it was found that a majority of the dele- 
gates were in favor of immediate location at 
Waxahachie; but Dr. Mood made a call for the 
vote "by Conference" and defeated Waxahachie. 



A CmTtlAL INSTITUTION. &99 

Great indignation was felt in the town on ac- 
count of his course. While he regretted this, it 
did not otherwise affect him, for he had acted 
upon his convictions. This feeling extended to 
some of the members of the body. Conferring 
with one of the leading spirits, he was frankly 
told that his motives in the matter were sus_ 
pected. It was believed that he hoped by pre- 
venting location he would tire out the Conven- 
tion, and eventually locate the University at 
Chappell Hill, where it was supposed he desired 
to go. Therefore at the next day's session he 
proposed that they agree upon limits within 
which the University might be safely located, 
and he proposed such boundaries that not only 
Chappell Hill, but the entire territory of the 
Texas Conference was excluded. Dr. Mood by 
this means allayed the suspicions of the mem- 
bers, and all again worked in harmony. The 
Convention, after accomplishing some important 
ends, adjourned to meet at Corsicana in the fol- 
lowing November. 

This year sped rapidly, under the pressure of 
much work. He collected money enough to 
build a good parsonage at Brenham, and 
closed the second year of his pastorate, warmly 
attached to that people, all of whom seemed to 
reciprocate the feeling. 

A matter occurred this year which showed 



300 DR. MOOD. 



how little his motives and labors in connection 
with the University movement were understood 
even by the intelligent and influential laymen. 
A prominent member of his charge invited Dr. 
Mood one day to his private office, where it was 
explained to him that certain parties had, at 
different times, purchased the liens and other 
debts, upon Soule University building — the face 
value of which aggregated $17,000. They pro- 
posed to foreclose on the property and conduct 
it as a private institution. This gentleman then 
proposed to Dr. Mood, in behalf of the parties, 
that if he would consent to conduct the institu- 
tion at Chappell Hill in the interest of private 
parties for a definite term of years, that they 
would deed to him one-half of the University 
and grounds — they retaining the other half. 
He at once indignantly rejected the proposal, 
and proceeded to show the injustice to himself 
that was threatened by such a proposition, as 
well as the injustice threatened to the Church. 
He was dealing with intelligent Christian men, 
who after arguing the case with him for some 
time, at last yielded to the convictions of simple 
truth, and agreed not to push their claims. 
Subsequently they were induced to present their 
claims canceled, so that just before the final 
resignation Dr. Mood was able to show this 
property relieved of all liability. By this act 



A CENTRAL INSTITUTION. 301 

he saved Soule University to the Church, and 
prolonged the usefullness of its career under the 
auspices of the Methodist Church. 

In the meanwhile the attendance of students 
upon Soule University was largely increased. 
This year there were a number of Collegiate 
grade, two of whom entered the Sophomore 
Class. They were advanced to the rank of 
Junior in 1871, to Senior in 1872, and gradu- 
ated in 1873. 

The Convention reassembled at Corsicana, 
November 1, 1871, under the presidency of 
Bishop Marvin. The wisdom of the delay in 
the matter of location was now very apparent. 
Some ten places appeared, through represent- 
atives or memorials, each presenting its peculiar 
claims for the coveted prize, and the values 
now offered as subsidies to secure location 
were far in advance of anything that two 
years before was thought at all possible to be 
secured. Dr. Mood had used every opportunity 
to keep the matter constantly before the Con- 
ferences and the Church at large, and the in- 
creased attendance upon the meetings; the ardor 
and earnestness, and in some instances, warm 
partisan feelings expressed in the debates, 
clearly proved that the matter had now come to 
be considered one of singular importance to the 
Methodists in the state. 



302 DR. MOOD. 



At this, which was the final meeting of the 
Convention, a proposition of an entirely novel 
character was submitted. A company of pros- 
perous and active capitalists, all of them Meth- 
odists, and a majority of them residents of 
Galveston, proposed to form a joint-stock com- 
pany, with a capital of $100,000, of which they 
were willing to take $50,000, provided the 
Methodists of the state would take stock cover- 
ing the remaining $50,000. With this amount 
they assured the Convention that they could 
purchase a large body of land, containing about 
20,000 acres, and in every way suitable for the 
purposes in hand. The company was here to 
donate ample grounds for college buildings, and 
to lay out an ideal University town, every al- 
ternate acre in the town, and every alternate 
section of 160 acres of the remaining land to be 
deeded to the University. They also promised 
to erect plain buildings in which operations 
might begin, and be comfortably carried on for 
ten or fifteen years. They limited the time of 
their offer to June 15, 1872, after which, if the 
Church had failed to respond to their proposi- 
tion, it was to be considered null and void. 

The proposition was at once accepted by the 
Convention, and the gentlemen from whom the 
offer came were appointed Commissioners of 
Location, with instructions that if the scheme 



A CENTRAL INSTITUTION. 303 

should fail, they were to select from the many 
places then asking for the location. In that 
event they were to become Trustees of the 
property accepted in behalf of the M. E. Church 
South, and were empowered to make any and 
all arrangements for the opening of the Uni- 
versity. 

Though the matter was thoroughly advertised, 
and agents were sent into the field, when the 
fifteenth of June came, only a small part of the 
$50,000 had been subscribed by the state at 
large, and therefore the proposal was formally 
withdrawn. 

At the Texas Conference, which met in Gal- 
veston about a month after the Convention ad- 
journed, Dr. Mood was sent to Chappell Hill 
station in answer to a petition to that effect — 
also appearing as President of Soule University. 

Just after this Conference he was taken sick. 
He was a long time confined to his bed. Mean- 
while he could hear nothing as to the actions of 
the commissioners. Had they lost heart? Had 
the movement come to an end with the final ad- 
journment of the convention? These questions 
were constantly agitating his thoughts. Un- 
doubtedly his anxiety of mind about the fate of 
the matter had done much towards the consum- 
mation and aggravation of his sickness. Of his 
recoveiy he says: "One day while lying weak 



304 DR. MOOD. 



and faint under the slow fever which had fast- 
ened itself upon me, I was reading my bible, 
when these words were addressed to my heart 
with great power; "Casting all your care upon 
Him for he careth for you." This brought con- 
solation, I felt I could and did cast all upon Him, 
and next day was pronounced better by the doc- 
tor. When the mail came, in the afternoon 
there was a letter from Galveston. It came 
from the commissioners asking me to come down 
and meet with them, — sympathizing with me in 
my sickness. I was soon able to travel, and to 
my great joy — and with gratitude to a merciful 
God — they proposed to me to pay my traveling 
expenses in visiting the different places that 
might desire to compete for the location of the 
University. In my feeble condition my charge 
consented to my going — as I was able to have 
my pulpit filled during my absence, and so I set 
out for that purpose as well as in the role of 
agent, to secure means for the successful open- 
ing of the University. I visited a number of 
places that presented claims in the movement. 
Among them Fairfield, Calvert, Fort Worth, 
Waco, Salado, Belton, Austin and Georgetown. 
This last place, I urged upon the commissioners 
as the most eligible of the competing places. I 
persuaded several of them to visit the town, 
which confirmed them in my opinion — so that 



A CENTRAL INSTITUTION. 305 

early in the year it was understood unless 
material changes came in the offers of other 
places, that Georgetown would receive the 
prize." 

Bishop Keener presided in the winter of 1872 
over the Texas Conferences, and Dr. Mood made 
the round with him, everywhere urging the 
claims of the University movement. 

At this round, the recommendation of the 
Board of Commissioners of location, naming a 
Board of Trustees, to hold and manage the prop- 
erty and all fiscal matters, and calling for the 
appointment by the Bishop of a Board of Cura- 
tors — having oversight of the faculty and dis- 
ciplinary affairs, was ratified seriatim by each 
one of the five Texas Conferences. 

By this arrangement all the financial matters 
were placed in the hands of capable and experi- 
enced laymen, men whose business it is to make, 
handle, expend and receive money, the Board 
of Curators being chosen from the ministry. 
This plan proved a happy solution to the vexed 
question of the oversight of property and the 
administration of govermental affairs in the 
institution. 

A little incident occurred on this round that 
is worthy of being related as illustrative of Dr. 
Mood's fixedness of purpose, decision of char- 
acter and promptitude in action. The North- 



DE. MOOD. 



west Texas Conference was the first to convene. 
It met at Belton, on October 23d. On Friday 
afternoon of the Conference week, the Bishop 
sought a private interview with Dr. Mood, and 
proceeded to state to him the wants of the 
Church at Waco, and then informed him that he 
had determined to transfer him to the North- 
west Texas Conference and station him in that 
city. Taken by surprise, Dr. Mood said but 
little. For particular reasons he felt somewhat 
disposed to acquiesce in the arrangement. After 
supper, while on their way to Church, upon the 
Bishop's insisting on the proposed transfer, Dr. 
Mood presented his objections to being moved, 
stating among other things, that he did not see 
how he could give the University matter proper 
attention, with such a weighty charge as Waco 
upon his hands. To this the Bishop replied: 
"Go to Waco, and let the University matter 
drop." This remark both alarmed and decided 
Dr. Mood. He promised to give a final answer 
the next morning, so leaving the Bishop just as 
he entered the Church door, he hastened around 
to his stopping place, packed his valise, hurried 
to the stage office, and reached it just as the 
stage was moving out. He secured a seat and 
after traveling all night he found himself next 
morning some forty-five miles removed from the 
Bishop and no telegraphic communication possj- 



A CENTRAL INSTITUTION. 307 

ble. Upon leaving Belton he had written a note 
to be conveyed to the Bishop refusing, under 
any circumstances to transfer. Subsequently at 
the Texas Conference held at Bryan, he was re- 
appointed to Chappell Hill. 

The first meeting of the Board of Curators, 
for the purpose of electing a regent as well as 
looking after other important matters having 
reference to the opening of the institution, was 
ordered to be held in Galveston, soon after the 
adjournment of the West Texas Conference 
which was the last Conference held. From Vic- 
toria, the seat of this Conference, Bishop Keener, 
Dr. J. B. M.Ferrin, Eev. J. W. DeVilbiss, of 
the newly appointed curators, and Dr. Mood 
started for Galveston to be present at the ap- 
pointed meeting. They reached Indianola safely, 
but by an irregularity in the packet line they 
were delayed there for a week. It was a mem- 
orable week to each of the party — shut out 
from the rest of the world and not only so, 
"because of the present cold and rain." The 
Bishop was a good questioner, a good listener, 
and a solid talker; Dr. McFerrin was himself, 
the cold, the rain, and the delay could not de- 
press his spirits. He with Dr. Mood furnished 
the wit, the humor, the anecdote and the repar- 
tee for the party, and Rev. J. W. DeVilbiss, a 
veteran in the ranks, who was first to bear the 



308 DR. MOOD. 



banner of Protestantism West of the San 
Antonio and Medina rivers, was full of interest- 
ing incidents relative to his early Missionary 
efforts. No place could make time drag heavily 
with such a party. 

It was here that Brother DeVilbiss set his 
trap to catch Dr. McFerrin, "to get even with 
him," and caught a Bishop. It happened thus: 
Brother DeVilbiss was telling of a trip to St. 
Louis, and said in his slow, deliberate way: 
"And there I saw a boy, about eighteen years 
of age, one side of whom, commencing with the 
top of his head, and then straight on down, 
dividing his face and body was black as any 
negro you ever saw, and then, too, on that side 
the hand and the foot was the hand and foot of 
a negro." 

"What!" said the Bishop, not giving Dr. 
McFerrin time to speak, ' 'One side of him black 
like a negro?" 

"Yes, sir, as black as any negro you ever 
saw." 

"And his hair, was that woolly like a negro's?" 

"Yes, sir, half of him was in every respect 
like a negro." 

' 'Well, that was strange, and the other half 
was white?" 

"Oh no, it was black too." 

Three of the party laughed, but the Bishop 



A CENTRAL INSTITUTION: 309 

arose and said, "Brother Mood, let us take a 
walk." 

The Board of Curators met soon after the ar- 
rival of this party in Galveston. Bishop Keener 
presided, acting as proxy for Rev. Thomas 
Stanford of the Northwest Texas Conference, 
who could not attend. The prime object of this 
meeting was to elect a * Regent and arrange for 
the opening of the University; as in the Septem- 
ber previous the Commissioners had given no- 
tice that the location of the University would be 
settled during the coming summer. 

On the first ballot Dr. Mood was unanimously 
elected Regent, and being summoned, was 
kindly notified of the fact by the Bishop, and 
requested to take his seat as Curator ex officio. 
Bishop Keener confirmed this election December 
31, 1872. The Regent was then authorized to 
take steps towards securing a corps of in- 
structors to be elected at a subsequent meeting 
of the Board. It was also left in his hands to 
draw up rules and by-laws for the government 
of the Curators, to be submitted to them for 
their acceptance; and he, and Rev. R. W. Ken- 
non were appointed to represent the Curators in 

* The word Regent was selected by Dr. Mood because the 
office looked to the control of, in a large manner, the other con- 
nectional schools of lower grade in the Texas Conferences. In his 
mind there was an ideal system of schools, all working under the 
patronage and direction of the Methodist Church, but all working 
together as a system, with the University its head, and the Regent 
its director. 



310 DR MOOD. 



the preparation of the Charter of the University, 
in accordance with the action of the patronizing 
Conferences. 

Dr. Mood's election to the Regency was a 
foregone conclusion. He had originated the 
idea, and had fostered its development against 
many discouraging oppositions until it became 
a reality. Therefore he had every claim on the 
position; yet he was by no means certain that 
the election would be unanimous. 

Bishop Keener's remark at Belton, advising 
him to "go to Waco and let the University mat- 
ter drop," had compelled him to one of two 
conclusions — either that the Bishop thought that 
he was not the man for the place, or that the 
movement would prove a failure, and he had 
better abandon it. As the Bishop endorsed him 
for the position, he now had the conviction 
forced upon him that the Bishop had placed but 
a low estimate upon the movement. He there- 
fore sought an opportunity and said to him: U I 
fear you have but little hope for the final suc- 
cess of this educational movement." 

"On the contrary," replied the Bishop, to the 
surprise and gratification of Dr. Mood, "I have 
more hope of it than of any movement of similar 
character before attempted in Texas." 

Dr. Mood was rejoiced to hear this expression, 



A CENTRAL INSTITUTION. Sli 

and said, "You will greatly oblige me by giving 
me the grounds for this hope. " 

"Oh, sir, simply because you have knocked 
all the hurrah out of the movement." 

This simple remark of the Bishop was after- 
wards a source of great satisfaction and help to 
Dr. Mood. Often when tempted to dspondency 
on account of the absence of enthusiasm on the 
part of the Church in reference to the Univers- 
ity, he has been chided by the recollection that 
the hurrah of the crowd is hollow, transient and 
comparatively worthless, and that it is only by 
tireless, toilsome, patient effort, that permanent 
success can be achieved. 



CHAPTER XXII. 

SOUTH-WESTERN UNIVERSITY. 

In January 1873, Dr. Mood called a meeting 
of the Board of Trustees of Soule University 
and tendered to them his resignation as Presi- 
dent of that institution. 

The Texas University, though it had a name 
and a Regent, was as yet without an established 
location, and so far as the ken of human sight 
could reach, its ultimate success, was by no 
means assured; but on the contrary, it was beset 
by dangers; and was just at that stage where a 
false step or an injudicious movement might re- 
sult in disaster. 

A number of places had entered eagerly into 
competition to secure the location, but it was 
certain that in failing to secure it, there would 
be proportional reaction and indignation. To 
locate an institution that must look for its 
income, at least for a number of years, from 
patronage alone, with some dozen of the promi- 
nent places of the state in a position of antago- 
nism would be dangerous in the extreme. By 
offering a prize it was comparatively easy to 
arouse the people to take part in the struggle; 



SO UTH- WESTERN UNIVERSITY. 313 

the question now was, — how to allay it. This 
demanded caution to prevent calamity. The 
commissioners gave preference to Georgetown, 
but this was known only to them. It now be- 
came Dr. Mood's duty to discourage the other 
competing places without discouraging George- 
town on the one hand or showing preference for 
it on the other. This was a delicate and difficult 
task, but in the end it was successfully accom- 
plished. One after another of the competing 
places began to withdraw. Georgetown hearing 
of their action notified the Kegent of its intention 
to withdraw also. He hastened to Georgetown, 
met the citizens, urged them to be patient — 
assured them that the location would be made in 
good faith within a specified time, and further 
said that the withdrawal of the other places only 
increased the chances of their town. These per- 
suasions prevailed. And on August 21st, 1873, 
when location was declared, Georgetown re- 
mained the only candidate for the honor, all the 
other competing places having voluntarily with- 
drawn from the contest. This action then, if it 
did not awaken great enthusiasm, aroused no 
active opposition. 

Immediately after the location of the Univer- 
sity was made public, Dr. Mood with his family 
moved to Georgetown. His means being 
limited, and the income from the University by 



314 I)B. MOOD. 



no means assured, — his chances for a support 
depending entirely upon the matter of tuition, 
— he felt that he could not afford to rent a house, 
so with his family he moved into the University 
building, and found a home in the two lower 
south rooms. This act alone shows with how 
much caution and determination he embarked 
upon this enterprise. Though to the casual ob- 
server the prospects were no more flattering, 
and the surroundings were no more comfortable 
now than at the time when he landed at Chappeli 
Hill nearly five years before, still his feelings 
were very different. He was not enthusiastic, 
but he was hopeful, nay more, he was deter- 
mined. He had learned from the experience of 
the early efforts in behalf of the University 
movement that the Church would not contribute 
to the establishment of the University until the 
University was established, so that in one sense 
the commissioners had nothing to locate when 
they located it. But now the movement had ' 'a 
local habitation and a name;" as subsidy offered 
by Georgetown included a plain, but capacious 
stone building, containing six large lecture 
rooms, and a chapel having capacity to seat over 
four hundred persons. Having these accommo- 
dations immediately at hand the Regent adver- 
tised the opening of the first session for Monday, 
October 6th, 1873. 



SOVm-WESTEUtf XTNIVER81TT. &15 

In the meanwhile the financial panic, which a 
short time before began in New York, had ex- 
tended to Texas. Yellow fever, also, made its 
appearance in different points of the state. It 
was in the face of embarrassments produced by 
these causes that the halls of the University 
were first opened to students. 

On December 13th, 1873, the Curators held 
their second meeting in Austin. The exercises 
of the University had been conducted by a pro- 
visional Faculty; the Board now proceeded to 
elect a permanent Faculty. Dr. Mood was 
elected nen con. Professor of Mental and Moral 
Philosophy. He was also, for the time being to 
have charge of the Schools of History and Eng- 
lish Literature. B. E. Chrietzberg, A.M., was 
elected Professor of Mathematics, and H. M. 
Eeynolds, M.D., was elected Professor of 
Spanish. These gentlemen were expected to 
give instruction in any other branches than those 
mentioned, which in their opinion should be 
taught in the institution. Immediately follow- 
ing this action of the Curators, the first formal 
announcement of the Texas University, contain- 
ing the names of the faculty, the schools taught 
and the courses of instruction was made in cata- 
logue form. 

When Dr. Mood reached Georgetown, in Sep- 
tember, 1873, he found it but a village numbering 



316 DR. MOOD. 



perhaps five hundred inhabitants; the nearest 
railroad point was seventeen miles distant. At 
that time there were fourteen Methodists, resi- 
dent in and around Georgetown. It was a 
monthly appointment in a circuit of twelve 
preaching places. There was no church build- 
ing in the town. The Methodists had neither 
class-meeting, prayer-meeting, nor Sunday- 
school. On January 11th, 1874, the members 
of the Methodist Church were called together in 
a Church Conference for the purpose of organ- 
ization. The University Chapel was secured 
from the trustees, and thenceforth services, 
prayer-meeting, and Sunday-school were con- 
ducted weekly. 

During this session, thirty-three students of 
collegiate grade were matriculated. Small as 
was this number there was an unruly element of 
sufficient strength and size to keep the faculty 
uneasy. These young men were- not willing to 
adapt themselves to what was to them a new 
order of discipline. But 'it was felt to be very 
important, that at the beginning, while the 
numbers were small, a proper impress should be 
made, which would not be effaced with enlarged 
attendance. Several students who became un- 
ruly were dismissed. Fights, in which blood 
often flowed freely, were frequent among the 
younger members of the institution. This 



SOUTH-WESTERN UNIVERSITY. 317 

caused Dr. Mood great distress. In conferring, 

about the matter, with Judge , one of the 

leading citizens of Georgetown, and who, at 
that time, was the District Attorney, he was ad- 
vised to turn the young peace-breakers over to the 
jurisdiction of the civil authorities, holding that 
students are as amenable to law as any other 
class, and that they should not be excused upon 
that sentimentality — "because they are college 
boys." Dr. Mood determined to act upon this 
advice. Of the two first offenders after this 
conversation, one was the son of this legal 
friend. As soon as the case came to Dr. Mood's 
ears, he reported it to the officers of the law — 
the students were tried and fined. Dr. Mood's 
conduct met with some criticism among a certain 
class; a few censuring his course very severely. 

Judge was absent from the town, on legal 

business at the time, but immediately upon his 
return, he was waited upon by two or three of 
these malcontents who began to sympathise with 
him upon the great injustice done his son during 
his absence, and to condemn Dr. Mood in the 
harshest manner. But the Judge, without 
waiting to hear them through, forcibly turned 
on the extinguisher, informing these self-ap- 
pointed critics that they were interesting them- 
selves in matters about which they were not 
concerned; that Dr. Mood, in his opinion, had 



318 DR MOOD. 



acted exactly right, for he had acted under his 
advice, and if his son had broken any law he 
ought to pay the penalty. 

The decided stand taken by this gentleman 
contributed much towards the maintenance of 
good order in the University. It caused such 
as were disposed to blame Dr. Mood, to look at 
the matter in a different light. And when the 
students felt that if they resorted to violence, 
they would be carried to the Court House, and 
dealt with by the officers of the law, and that 
public opinion sanctioned this course, it had a 
wonderfully soothing effect in allaying their 
dangerous passions. 

In a private letter written early in the follow- 
ing summer, Dr. Mood thus speaks of the Uni- 
versity: 

' 'We are nearing the close of our first session 
in our new location. It has been eminently 
satisfactory. We have students, and those, too, 
of representative character, from all the patron- 
izing Conferences. We have fully organized 
the Collegiate Department. Our grade of schol- 
arship has been excellent. Our Church, Sun- 
day-School and Bible-Class have all taken form, 
and are prosperous. We feel that God has 
given us tokens of enlarged and prolonged use- 
fulness. " 

As there were no graduates, there were no 



SOUTH-WESTERN UNIVERSITY. 319 

commencement exercises; and a sermon ad- 
dressed by the Kegent to the students, on Sun- 
day morning, July 19, closed the first session. 

The next term opened auspiciously. P. C. 
Bryce, A.M., was called to the chair of Ancient 
Languages. A fine religious feeling developed 
during the year, among the students, followed 
b} r several conversions. 

Three of the Board of Trustees gave 1,000 
acres of land, each, towards a permanent endow- 
ment. This, with the subsidy already given by 
Georgetown, made the entire property of the 
University worth about $60,000; all of which 
had been secured to the Church, "without a 
dollar having been demanded of the Church or 
a single collection lifted. " 

The close of this session showed a measure of 
success achieved. The number of students was 
almost double that of the preceding term. They 
were from twenty-four counties of Texas, with 
three from an adjoining state, and their average 
age was near eighteen years. These facts show 
with how much rigor the enterprise had been 
pushed. 

The first commencement exercises of the Uni- 
versity were held at the close of this year's la- 
bors. Kev. J. H. McLean, D.D., of the Trinity 
Conference, preached the Commencement ser- 



320 DR. MOOD. 



mon, and a number of young men graduating in 
schools attested progress made. 

The institution continued to grow in the con- 
fidence of the state at large, and the following 
fall, while Bishop McTyeire was making the 
round of the five Conferences, he says in a pub- 
lished letter: "I am glad to have the company 
of Dr. Mood, Regent of the Texas University. 
He will make the rounds of the Texas Confer- 
ences, and the institution will profit by it. Dr. 
Mood has a "mission" and nobly is he fulfilling 
it. The Texas University scheme has moved 
cautiously, wisely, firmly, and is now on solid 
ground with a growing patronage, and an in- 
tensifying friendship on the part of Texas Meth- 
odists and people." 

During this year the Faculty was added to, by 
the election of S. G. Sanders, A.M., to the chair 
of Modern Languages and Book-keeping; and 
Rev. N. T. Burks to the chair of Mathematics; 
these chairs having become vacant by the resig- 
nation of the professors filling them. 

It was while living and teaching in the cold, 
unceiled rooms of the University, that in the 
early spring of 1875, the disease, chronic 
bronchitis — which ultimately caused his death, 
was developed. He struggled heroically against 
the inroads of this disease, pressing his labors 
with as much energy and assiduity, and per- 



SOUTH-WESTERN UNIVERSITY. 321 

forming every duty as conscientiously as if he 
were in the enjoyment of robust health. Not 
very long after this he found a home in more 
comfortable quarters than the rooms of the Uni- 
versity building, and in a few years he was 
pleasantly and conveniently domiciled in his 
own house. 

It is neither necessary nor fit, here, to follow 
out the progress and development of the Uni- 
versity year by year; but there were steps taken 
and ends accomplished, which should be men- 
tioned. 

In 1876, the name, Texas University, under 
which the operations of the institution had been 
conducted up to that time, was changed to 
South-western University, as a charter was re- 
fused to any other than a state institution, under 
that name. 

In the early operations of the University it 
was seen that a young ladies' school at George- 
town was inevitable, and the officers thought 
best to take it under their control. Accordingly 
this new department was opened in a rented 
building, September 9th, 1878. The following 
year a plain, but commodious building was 
erected for its accommodation, and the growth 
of the Ladies Annex of South-western Univer- 
sity has been parallel with that of the male de- 
partment. These two departments, though 



322 DR. MOOD. 



under the same boards of management and 
instruction, are separate and distinct in their 
operations — only holding a co-ordinate relation- 
ship. 

In 1881, it was found that the patronage of 
the institution had largely outgrown its accom- 
modations, and during that year and the year 
following, valuable and important improvements 
and additions were made to the University 
buildings. The last great effort of Dr. Mood's 
life, for the University, was made at the Educa- 
tional Convention, held in Georgetown, in 
November, 1883, during the session of the 
North-west Texas Conference, at that place. In 
this work he had the efficient help of Rev. H. 
A. Bourland, the Financial Agent of the Univer- 
sity, who with Dr. Young, of Nashville, made 
stirring appeals to the large audience congre- 
gated in the University Chapel. At this meeting 
$35,150.00 was subscribed toward the erection of 
a suitable building for the Ladies Annex. This 
amount, through the labors of the financial 
agent, has been largely increased. 

Through the eleven years of labor during 
which Dr. Mood was Regent of South-western 
University, each session witnessed a gratifying 
increase in patronage; added improvements 
about the grounds, buildings, or facilities for 
instruction; and a gracious visitation of the 



SO UTH- WESTERN UNI VERSITY. 323 

Holy Spirit among the students. The advance 
was healthy, steady, continuous. Having all 
the "hurrah" taken out of the movement at the 
beginning, its subsequent course was unmarked 
by paroxysms of prosperity, and the depression 
that usually follows. 

It may be well to count, it is best to weigh. 
But the results of this work cannot yet be 
weighed. We will therefore give a few figures 
setting forth facts from which some estimates 
may be drawn. 

The first session, three professors served on 
small salaries; the twelfth, fifteen instructors 
found support. 

The first session, thirty-three students were 
enrolled; — the twelfth, three hundred and sixty- 
one. 

In 1873, out of thirty-three students, six were 
dismissed for bad conduct, in 1884, under the 
same discipline, out of three hundred and sixty- 
one, only four were expelled from the institu- 
tion. 

At the close of the first session, but six 
students were enrolled as members of the 
Church; at the close of the twelfth session, there 
were one hundred and twenty church members 
among the students. 

In 1873, there was but one building. It was 
uninclosed, incomplete, unsightly and uncom- 



324 DR. MOOD. 



fortable. There was neither furniture, museum, 
apparatus, nor library. In 1884, there were 
well furnished and commodious buildings, an 
interesting museum, a valuable apparatus, and 
growing libraries; the property was unincum- 
bered, the Conferences had agreed to assist in 
the support of their institution, and a capable 
and earnest financial agent was in the field. 

There may be those, who upon visiting the 
University in the future, and not being familiar 
with the facts of its early history, will pass un- 
favorable animadversions upon the compara- 
tively limited character of the campus. It 
doubtless will seem strange to some that the 
movers in this enterprise should have felt con- 
tent to have been shut up on eleven acres, when 
so much unoccupied land was lying all about 
them, and could have been bought at compara- 
tively low figures. But Dr. Mood was not con- 
tent. He sought the owner of the twenty acres 
lying immediately west of the campus and the 
land was offered to him for fifty dollars an acre. 
He used every honorable means known to him 
to secure the money necessary for the purchase, 
as he foresaw that the land would rapidly 
increase in value. But he failed. The fact is, 
that outside of the aid he received here and 
there to pay his traveling expenses, not one of 
the thousands of Methodists in Texas would 



SO UTH- WESTERN UNIVERSITY. 325 

hazard a dollar for the establishment of a great 
central institution of learning, to be under the 
direction and patronage of their own Church. 
What was actually procured in the establish- 
ment and location of the University, was really 
an act of bargain and sale. The commissioners 
sold to the citizens of Georgetown, the location 
of the University, they paying some sixty thou- 
sand dollars in land's, buildings and cash, for the 
advantages that would follow to the town, from 
the establishment of such an institution among 
them. 

Dr. Mood in speaking of these early, and often 
single-handed struggles says: "All along here 
I am under the deepest obligations to the few 
who took me to their hearts and homes, encour- 
aged me, and trusted both my motives, and 
often my judgment. Of these I must mention 
especially the brothers Dudley, Thomas and John 
Snyder, and early in the history of the move- 
ment, Col. George F. Alford, Rev. W. G. Veal, 
Capt. C. W. Hurley, W. B. Norris and Hon. J. 
D. Giddings." 

We can best judge of the great work accom- 
plished under the leadership of Dr. Mood when 
we compare it with the past efforts of like nature 
in the state. From 1840 to 1870, the Methodist 
Church in Texas projected some twelve colleges, 
and a university; but after thirty years struggle, 



DR. MOOI). 



she had nothing in the way of permanent opera- 
tions to show for the great outlay of men and 
money. On the other hand, after the labors of 
only eleven years very few of the older Church 
institutions in the South could measure up to 
South-western University in actual unincumbered 
property, in point of numbers, in work accom- 
plished and in moral and religious power. 

South-western University was founded and 
fostered through these twelve years without the 
immediate assistance of any of the chief func- 
tionaries of the Church, and for the first few 
years of its existence, though the Church, at 
large, passed resolutions and hurrahed vocifer- 
ously over every .advance made by their institu- 
tion, yet, they offered hardly a pittance, in a 
substantial way, to the Regent and Faculty, who 
were struggling against many difficulties, for a 
noble end, upon meager and insufficient salaries. 
Then with what deep, earnest and prayerful 
effort, with what intelligent design, with what 
unremitting labors, this University must have 
been borne on to the present high measure of 
success. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

REGENT. 

The names Dr. Mood and South-western Uni- 
versity, are inseparably connected in Texas. 
One cannot be mentioned without suggesting 
the other. He, without reserve, without abate- 
ment, and not at times without great oppositions 
and discouragements, as well as temptations in 
other directions, devoted his thoughts, his ener- 
gies and enthusiasm for the fifteen riper years 
of his life to the establishment and furtherance 
of this University. He has been called the Wil- 
bur Fisk of Texas Methodism, and he will be 
known to posterity as an educator, and as the 
founder of a great institution. 

The work that he accomplished, during the 
first six or seven years of his Eegency is marvel- 
ous. He, during this time, besides closely 
superintending the interests of the University, 
preaching regularly, taking a prominent and 
leading part in all public enterprises whether 
connected with the Church or town, — gave in- 
struction in three schools, laboring daily above 
six hours in the lecture-room and chapel exer- 
cises. He filled these chairs with peculiar ac- 



328 DR MOOD. 



ceptability. The hour spent by the student in 
his room was always agreeably and profitably 
spent. The dryest studies were made delight- 
ful, the most obtruse became clear and the most 
difficult became easy under his exposition and 
illustration. The students often remarked the 
seemingly inexhaustible fund of anecdote he 
possessed. He always had one illustrative of 
the case in hand. It was always a new one, and 
told in his inimitable manner seemed peculiarly 
apropos to the point under discussion. 

It was touching, along here, and more so in 
later years, to see him heroically combating his 
infirmities, and struggling on against disease 
and weakness, meeting his duties so regularly, 
so systematically, so cheerfully, and yet as was 
apparent at the cost of so much physical effort. 
It was the great pleasure of the Faculty to re- 
lieve him largely of his professorial duties, dur- 
ing the last two years of his life — but he would 
not be unemployed — he bent his energies to 
other matters connected with the University, 
and by being rigidly systematic in all of his 
efforts, he found the strength to accomplish sur- 
prising results. 

Bishop Parker wrote of him in 1883: "Dr. 
Mood, the Regent, is loved and revered by all. 
Feeble in health and with a weight of infirmity 
that would send almost any other man into re- 



REGENT. 329 



tirement or the grave, he is doing the work of a 
giant and laboring with unfaltering courage and 
with well-founded hope. The pleasure of the 
Lord has prospered in his hands, and the work 
of his hands has been established." 

In the beginning, while the movement was 
yet small, Dr. Mood thought, planned, and 
acted for the Trustees, and Curators, directed 
every interest of the University, and shaped the 
policy of the Faculty. This was done with so 
much judgment, that nothing but harmony pre- 
vailed in all of the deliberations of these several 
boards. By his Faculty he was deeply beloved, 
with them his opinion carried the greatest 
weight. He impressed them with his methods, 
and his policy, until there was a unity in all 
action. While he was wise in council, he was 
prompt in execution. As a disciplinarian he 
was a positive character; courageous, yet kind; 
decided, yet merciful. The students all honored 
and revered him. They could not do otherwise. 
He possessed a peculiar tact of keeping up with, 
and detecting the leaders in all college mischief. 
The method of government proceeded upon the 
assumption of the integrity and honor of every 
student; this he constantly kept before them. 
The result was, the best of order generally pre- 
vailed. When the law was transcended, his 
tongue was a terror to the evil-doer, for the 



330 DM. HOOD. 



lecture that was sure to follow the misdemeanor, 
was withering in sarcasm, invective and repri- 
mand. He spared neither words of com- 
mendation to the studious and orderly, nor 
words of condemnation to the idle and unruly. 
Many incidents could be related aptly illustrat- 
ing his intuition, his tact, his decision of charac- 
ter and his promptitude in action; but one, a 
well remembered circumstance in the history of 
South-western University, will be sufficient. 

On the first day of April, 1880, some seventy 
of the students, by a previous written agree- 
ment, gathered in the campus at the ringing of 
the bell announcing the hour of assemblage for 
duty, formed in procession, and at the tapping 
of a drum marched from the grounds and were 
absent all day. It developed by investigation 
that the matter originated in a desire for fun. 
Dr. Mood, subsequently, in the chapel, set forth 
at some length, the character of the affair as the 
Faculty were compelled to view it, particularly 
dwelling upon its unbecoming nature, and its 
defiance of government, in uniting in written 
compact to contravene the authority of the 
faculty. 

As no movement, in response to this presenta- 
tion of the matter, was voluntarily made by the 
students, disclaiming unlawful intentions on 
their part, Dr. Mood laid before them a paper, 



REGENT. 331 



saying that he demanded the signature of no 
one, but that if, after their acquaintance with 
the views and feelings of the Faculty, they felt 
prompted to append their names the Faculty 
would be gratified. The paper read as follows: 
"The undersigned, connected with the transac- 
tion of April 1st, hereby express their regret 
thereat, disclaim intentional disrespect to the 
Faculty and will hereafter discountenance similar 
demonstrations in the institution." 

About twenty signed this declaration during 
the day leaving about fifty students remaining 
in the attitude of rebellion to the government of 
the University. It was well known to the 
faculty that the spirit of misrule had been intro- 
duced some months before by several students 
coming to South-western University, from 
another institution. The spirit had been spread- 
ing and gaining strength, constantly showing 
itself in a more and more aggravated form. For 
this reason the faculty viewed the whole affair 
in a much more serious light than what they 
might otherwise have done. It had a meaning 
to them that it did not have to the public. Dr. 
Mood, on the following evening saw each mem- 
ber of the faculty, and final action was decided 
upon. On the next morning the names of the 
students who yet appeared in the attitude of 
insubordination were called, and each one asked if 



332 DM. MOOD. 



the paper lying on the desk represented his sen- 
timents. Upon answering no, his name was 
stricken from the roll, and each, in turn was 
required to retire from the building and the 
campus, as no longer connected with the Uni- 
versity. It was a very painful scene to the 
faculty, and the deepest excitement prevailed 
among the students, as one after another stood 
up in his place, answered in the negative, and 
walked from the chapel amid the intense silence 
of the occasion — for the eagle eye of Dr. Mood 
held them all in abeyance, so that there were no 
outbursts, nor a single disorderly word or act. 

About fifty names were erased from the roll. 
The dismissal of so large a body of students 
naturally awakened great interest in the com- 
munity, some denouncing and many sustaining 
the course of the Faculty. 

One of the leading citizens, who was known 
to be a warm friend and supporter of the insti- 
tution, called on Dr. Mood, for the purpose, if 
possible, of adjusting the difference between the 
students and the Faculty. He argued with Dr. 
Mood that it was customary, in colleges, — in 
cases of insubordination, to expel only the most 
prominent among the leaders, that that was 
thought sufficient, and asked why that policy 
could not be followed in this case. Dr. Mood 
replied, that by their subsequent action each 



REGENT. 333 



student was alike guilty, for each one had been 
separately approached, and had refused the 
terms offered by the Faculty, and there was 
nothing left them but expulsion. But, contin- 
ued the gentlemen, we must not be too hard on 
the rebels, you and I were lately rebels, and if 
the judgment you mete had been meted out to 
us, ,we might have swung from "sour apple 
trees." Then, you must remember, that this 
institution is entirely dependent on patronage 
for its support. If you dismiss this large body 
of students, you will make them and their 
friends your enemies, and it must materially 
affect the income. You have invited a Faculty 
here to assist in giving instruction, will it be 
judicious — will it be treating them right to turn 
this patronage away? I know you are indepen- 
dent of patronage, you can live on faith in the 
future as you have done in the past, but what 
will become of these professors?" 

Dr. Mood replied that these questions could 
not be entertained. That it was no foolish 
demand they were making, to vindicate wounded 
dignity, it was simply an unavoidable vindica- 
tion of necessary authority. The question at 
issue was: "Shall the faculty or students rule?" 
And it was very important to settle this question 
thus early in the history of the institution. 

The gentleman saw that Dr. Mood was inflex- 



334 DM. MOOD. 



ible in his course. He determined therefore to 
labor with the other party. It was not difficult 
to get a number of the leading citizens to inter- 
est themselves in the matter. The dismissed 
students were invited to an interview, and the 
subject was freely discussed. After more reflec- 
tion the students thought an apology was due 
the Faculty. Subsequently a Committee of the 
citizens, consisting of Hon. T. P. Hughes, Hon. 
D. S. Chessher, and Mr. J. W. Hodges called 
upon the faculty and presented the following 
paper that had been voluntarily signed by the 
dismissed students: "We the undersigned, do 
hereby express our regret that our action on the 
first day of April has offended the Faculty of 
South-western University, and we do hereby 
promise, as gentlemen, to discountenance in 
future any similar demonstrations, while we are 
connected with the institution." 

Other papers were presented to the Faculty 
"respectfully beseeching the leniency of the 
Faculty." In response to these papers, the 
Faculty promptly agreed to restore the names 
of the dismissed students, to the roll; they re- 
turned at once to duty, and from that time on, 
the best of order and attention to study ob- 
tained. 

Not least in Dr. Mood's labors, as Regent, 
stand his successful efforts for South-western 



REGENT. 335 



University on the floors, and in the committee- 
rooms of the Texas Annual Conferences. He 
gave its progress, and presented its claims con- 
stantly through the press — mainly through the 
Texas Christian Advocate — he spoke of it from 
the pulpit and the rostrum; but, it was with the 
Conferences particularly, that he delighted to 
labor, for there he had reaped the most encour- 
aging and gratifying results. Besides, he was 
working with, and for, them; though in differ- 
ent departments of Church work all were striv- 
ing together for the same high and noble pur- 
pose. 

From his first round, made with Bishop 
Wightman in 1869, he had the confidence of all 
the preachers because they saw that he was 
working only for the furtherance of Christ's 
Kingdom. Having this confidence in the man, 
they had confidence in, and sympathy for his 
work. They accepted his statements, and when 
he said that South-western University was their 
University, they believed it — they felt it, they 
became interested in it and worked for it. Here 
a great work had been done for them as well as 
giving them the opportunity to do a great work. 
They had an interest in common that had been 
made a bond of union, an interest that had been 
established without jealousy or controversy. 
Dr. Mood was the leader of Christian Education 



336 DB. MOOD. 



in the state. He was recognized as such through- 
out the connection, and as such he was appointed 
as a delegate to the First Ecumenical Methodist 
Conference which convened in City Road Chapel, 
London, in September 1881. Though quite 
feeble at this time, he undertook and made the 
long trip. Dr. I. Gr. John, one of Dr. Mood's 
warmest personal friends, also being a delegate 
to this Conference, was his traveling companion. 
They made a pleasant journey together. The 
voyage across the Atlantic was made in remark- 
ably good time, and they were at once ushered 
into the World of Methodists. Here Dr. Mood 
found some of his friends of his former visits, 
and his communion with the representatives of 
the twenty-eight branches of Methodism, com- 
ing from every quarter of the globe was delight- 
ful to him in the extreme. He took an active 
part in the proceedings, and by appointment 
he delivered the "invited address" on "The 
Higher Education Demanded by the Necessities 
of the Church in our Time," making a masterly 
appeal for the moral and spiritual in higher 
education. 

On this, his last visit to England, his health 
was too feeble to allow him to go to many 
places of interest — even had his time been more 
fully at his disposal; but he could not forego the 
pleasure of stopping by in Oxford, while on his 



REGENT. 337 



way from Liverpool to London, — looking 
through those venerable piles consecrated to 
learning, and seeing something of the workings 
of the great University there. He took especial 
interest in Lincoln College, for here John Wes- 
ley had been a fellow, and Greek lecturer. He 
was shown Mr. Wesley's pulpit, his bed-room, 
and he was given a leaf from the vine that clam- 
bers by the window of his study. Here was the 
birth-place of Methodism, for from these heavy 
arched portals the Wesleys went forth to duty 
with such exactness, regularity, and conscien- 
tiousness that they were approbriously branded, 
"Methodists." 

He returned home somewhat benefitted in 
health and brought back with him mementoes 
of the occasion, and a warm fraternal feeling for 
his brethren in the various branches of Meth- 
odism. 

The leading principles that controlled Dr. 
Mood, in his management of South-western Uni- 
versity, as its Recent, were as follows: 

1. It is the function of the University as an 
institution of the Church to use all proper 
means to refine the manners, protect the morals, 
improve the hearts of the young people, and 
lead them to Christ. He labored and prayed 
that, "the rising generation might be wiser, 
better, purer, more patriotic and more devoted to 



338 DR. MOOD. 



God and duty than any that had gone on before. " 

2. The institution should bear a decided char- 
acter for benevolence, — turning away no stu- 
dent on account of his impecuniosity, who ex- 
hibited a sincere purpose to secure an education. 

3. The institution should antagonize no other 
institution — church or secular. While claiming 
the position assigned it by the voluntary and 
unanimous act of the Texas Conferences, as their 
representative institution for advanced learn- 
ing — a hearty "God speed" was always accorded 
to all laboring in the same cause. 

4. It was held, that in all things connected 
with the University, character w^as supreme. He 
subordinated its management in no way to any 
effort to acquire notoriety or secure members. 
Both of these he recognized as desirable, but if 
obtained at the sacrifice of character, could only 
be ruinous. He looked constantly to the main- 
tenance of that punctuality, thoroughness, and 
solid advancement which would establish a 
character for honest and successful work. 

He trusted God in all things, and of himself 
as Regent he said: "I have felt as if I were 
only a blind child led by the hand of a merciful 
father who has guided the matter to his own 
glory. I have had but one object in my labors 
in this connection, — it has been to serve God in 
the promotion of the kingdom of his Son. I 



REGENT. 



have humbly invoked divine grace to enable me 
to keep my "eye single." Under this endeavor 
I have felt my whole body full of light; and 
have never despaired or felt seriously discour- 
aged. I have alwaj^s confidently felt that if the 
movement deserved success, God would bless it 
and give it success, — and he has done so." 

While, as an educator, Dr.. Mood will be 
especially remembered by posterity, yet a brief 
synopsis of his qualities of head and heart which 
went to. qualify him for, and which were orna- 
ments to him in his high position would be 
eminently proper in this connection. 

He was a many-sided man. In all relations 
of life he was a scholarly, refined and elegant 
gentleman. In the parlor, at the dinner-table, 
in public or in private he was invariably the 
central figure. His conversational powers were 
of the richest and rarest order. It has been said 
of Coleridge that "he talked like an angel and 
did nothing at all." Dr. Mood, excelling in 
conversational powers, was a man of affairs. 
He saw clearly, decided matters rapidly, was 
quick to plan, and bold to execute. Besides 
the practical bent to his genius, as his life and 
labors have shown, he possessed great versatility 
of powers. As a speaker, he was clear, concise, 
argumentative, strong and pleasing. He was 
always ready, and always original. As a writer 



340 DR. MOOD. 



he was facile, forcible, humorous, and entertain- 
ing. His favorite theme was Christian Educa- 
tion in its various relations and bearings, and he 
discussed this subject with great cogency. As 
a preacher, he was devoted to the work and to 
the Church. In the pulpit he was clear in ex- 
position, close in analysis, and most fruitful and 
felicitous in illustration and elaboration. In the 
last years of his life he was seldom able to 
preach, but even then, though weak and lung- 
worn, and though his discourse was constantly 
interrupted by a hectic cough, he always drew 
large congregations, and bore them along wilh 
him upon the irresistable wing of his eloquence. 
As a Christian he was a bright and shining 
light. "It is well said in every sense" remarks 
Carlyle in his "Hero-Worship," "that a man's 
religion is the chief fact with regard tohiin." 
Dr. Mood was constantly in the atmosphere of 
piety. A short while before his death he wrote: 
"My early experiences were clear, decisive,^ 
rapturous. Through the forty years of struggle 
heavenward since then, there has been sensible 
growth. In these years I have been thrice called 
to face the solemnities of death — as was sup- 
posed by friends and physicians. In each 
instance I was able to say, "for me to live is 
Christ, to die is gain." But as life is reviewed 
and my heart examined I am obliged to exclaim 



REGENT. 341 



with Joshua, "There remaineth very much land 
to be possessed." There are still unconquered 
tempers, the risings of sinful desire, — and with 
each approach to the mercy-seat I am compelled 
to cry, "God, be merciful to me a sinner." If 
saved at last I feel with Mr. Wesley that I am 
' 'a brand plucked from the burning. " I am prone 
to say, "Not as though I had already attained, 
either were already perfect, * * * * but 
this one thing I do, forgetting those things 
which are behind, and reaching forth unto those 
things which are before, I press toward the mark 
for the prize." 

One of his students said of him: "There was 
a beautiful harmony between his life and teach- 
ings, the one a practical illustration of the other. 
If he urged upon the boys decision of character, 
they saw in him an impressive illustration. If 
he commended moral courage as the prime ele- 
ment of heroism, they saw in his manner of 
meeting duties and issues, an example worthy of 
imitation. If he urged as the necessary ele- 
ments of success, a worthy object to be attained 
and earnestness and constancy in its pursuit, his 
work and success in founding and fostering the 
University was a fitting example. But I need 
not enumerate, for he practiced every virtue 
which he commended, and was an example of 
every precept which he taught." 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE CLOSE. 

Dr. Adam Clarke says: "A minister is im- 
mortal until his work is done." This truth was 
exemplified in the life of Dr. Mood. His days 
seemed to be providentially prolonged until 
South-western University was no longer depend- 
ent upon the life of any one man. 

At the commencement of 1877, he submitted 
his resignation as Regent to the Board of Cura- 
tors, feeling that he had but a few weeks to live, 
and asked for the election of a successor. They 
refused to accept his* resignation. Bishop Dog- 
gett, Dr. Eobert Alexander, Rev. B. D. Dashiel, 
each addressed the Board in reference to the 
matter. Rev. R. W. Kennon presided on the 
occasion, but to the astonishment of himself and 
his friends he outlived them all. Through all 
these years his health was so delicate that he 
could hardly claim a well grounded hope for 
another day of added life. For some months 
before his death it was painfully apparent that 
even he, who had struggled so long against 
disease could not hold out much longer. In 
May, 1884, he wrote to his brother, "I do not 



TEE CLOSE. 343 



allude much to my health in my letters,— my 
condition, though subject to variations, remains 
on an average about the same, of course, year 
by year marking a lower average as age, and the 
increase of the effects of the disease are discern- 
able. I am now attending to all my duties 
regularly, though I cough much, and can do 
anything better than stand or walk. The recent 
meeting here resulted in forty-three conversions 
— nearly all among the students; I preached 
once— sitting on a table. I can preach very com- 
fortably that way, and can do it here, where I 
am at home, without embarrassment." 

At the regular meeting of the Board of Cura- 
tors in June 1884, at his instance, a resolution was 
passed, providing, that in the event of the death 
or resignation of the Regent, the Faculty were 
instructed to elect one of their number chair- 
man, who should administer the affairs of the 
University until the Board of Curators elect a 
Regent. 

Dr. Mood spent some weeks of the vacation 
that followed in visiting some of the Eastern 
colleges. At the opening of the next session, 
on Monday, September the 8th, the Faculty 
were called together, and Rev. J. H. McLean, 
D.D., was elected Chairman, Dr. Mood prefer- 
ring that this step should be taken, anticipating, 
as he was free to state either absence or death 



344 JDB. MOOD. 



on his part. He spoke of his approaching death 
as a certainty, and with a calmness that evi- 
denced his thorough preparation and readiness 
for the event. 

Shortly after the institution had entered regu- 
larly upon the year's work. He was called to 
San Antonio to be present at the Annual Meet- 
ing of the West Texas Conference. Here he 
was energetic in laboring for the University, 
and delivered an address on Education. This 
effort with subsequent exposure brought on a 
cold, and he returned to Georgetown suffering 
considerably from it. On November 5, in com- 
pany with Bishop McTyeire, he left George- 
town for Waco, the seat of the North-west Texas 
Conference, of which body he was a member. 
Among others, his pastor, Rev. A. A. Allison 
approached him and said: "Brother Mood, I 
fear you are too feeble to go to Conference." 

He replied, "My brother, I am doing the 
work of God. I am in his hands, and all is well 
whether I live or die." 

He went through much of the routine of Con- 
ference work, and on Friday night he delivered 
the annual address on Education. Rev. H. A. 
Bourland, who was with him, has kindly fur- 
nished us his recollections of this last speech, as 
well as the account of interesting events that 
followed: 



TEE CLOSE. 345 



"In extreme feebleness he arose, and support- 
ing himself upon his staff, he said: "Mr. Presi- 
dent, I have spoken so often at the Texas Con- 
ferences upon the topic assigned to this occasion 
that I really fear you will grow weary with the 
repeated story, but, sir, we need to repeat it 
again and again. 

"When I was a student at college there was 
given an exhibition of trained canary birds. 
These birds were taught to march and counter- 
march, to wheel out miniature cannon, and put 
them in position, and, at a given signal, to fire 
at each other. Some fell as if wounded and 
some as dead. The living brought out little 
wheel-barrows and loaded the disabled into 
them, and wheeled them away to hospitals. It 
seemed wonderful to me that canary birds could 
be so trained. I have known dogs to be taught 
some very clever tricks. They have perception, 
memory, and affection. If you are going down 
the street and drive back your dog, he will re- 
member some hole in the back fence, and will 
creep through it, and when you reach your des- 
tination, he is there. Horses and elephants are 
susceptible of training. I read recently of an 
elephant taught to fish, and he became very 
fond of it, too. Some days ago I was in San 
Antonio and visited the United States barracks. 
It was parade day. Three hundred trained men 



346 JDR. MO OA 



marched to martial music upon the grounds; 
three hundred feet were lifted at the same mo- 
ment; six hundred hands were raised together; 
six hundred hands came to rest together. They 
wheeled to the right, to the left; marched for- 
ward at command. But, Mr. President, is this 
all of education? Then what better is a man 
than a canary bird? What better than a dog, 
or a horse, or an elephant? — they do the same. 
Has education no higher aim, no wider scope 
than this? I was in a city not long ago, and 
visited the public schools. The superintendent 
was very kind, and took me to a large room 
where several hundred children were gathered. 
They were called to their feet and proceeded to 
go through calisthenic exercises. At the close 
he turned to me with a satisfied air and asked, 
' l What do you think of that?" < 'Oh, that is very 
pretty," said I, "very pretty!" "Why, sir, we 
punish a child more severly for failing in the 
figures of this exercise than we do for failure in 
its recitations." Is this the idea of education? 
Then I repeat it, the child is no better than a 
canary bird, or a dog, or a horse, or an ele- 
phant. 

"The mind must be trained as well as the 
body. The perceptions must be cultivated to 
take in nature. God has given us intellect, 
sensibility, will — these must all be trained. But 



THJE CLOSE. 347 



we have moral natures, too, that must be 
trained, and any system of education which 
ignores the conscience is defective, is worthless. 

"Mr. President, the Church is committed to 
higher education. "Oh," says one, "why not 
let the state educate?" Because the heart must 
be educated as well as the head. The opera- 
tions of grace reverse the operations of nature. 
Water flows down and seeks its level, but the 
blessings of the Gospel begin with the humble 
poor and reach upward to the wealthy and the 
worldly wise. So we need the Gospel in the 
common schools, for out of this primary school 
is to come the student for our University, and 
the scholar from the halls of the University 
where God is honored goes back to bless the 
children. The South-western University has not 
appealed to the public for money heretofore. 
We sought first to make character, to give you 
an institution worthy of your patronage. We 
have only laid the foundations; the superstruct- 
ure must yet be erected; but we are rejoiced to 
believe it has reached a point where its existence 
does not depend upon the life of any one man." 

"These as I remember are the main points 
that he brought forward, and much of it his exact 
language. The speech ended, Dr. Mood returned 
to his room to die — to die with his armor on. 
The night was a restless one to him; the lungs 



348 DA MOOD. 



were closing up; his respiration was difficult, 
and it seemed he could not live to see another 
morning. But with the morning came some 
respite, enough to encourage hope, and he took 
a little nourishment. On Sunday morning he 
seemed cheerful; and all went to church except 
myself. He requested me to read some selec- 
tions from St. John's Gospel, and pray. Before 
these brief exercises were over, violent parox- 
ysms came upon him, and oh how he suffered. 
At the close of one of these he said: "Blessed 
Savior give me rest." I said, "Doctor you suf- 
fer greatly." He replied, "Oh yes, but it is all 
necessary to subdue my stubborn heart." Later 
he asked, "Have I any pulse?" "Yes sir, but 
very feeble, I trust doctor you have the presence 
of your Savior." He replied, u Yes, I am very 
unworthy, but I trust in the all-prevailing merits 
of my adorable Savior." Again, he said: "I 
am a great sinner, but Christ saves me." 

Through the day his sufferings were extreme, 
but the comforting presence of the Savior was 
with him. Among his last utterances was a 
verse omitted from one of our hymns in the 
later editions : 

Give joy or grief, give ease or pain, 
Take life or friends away, 
But let me find them all again 
In that eternal day. 



TEE CLOSE. 349 



"He said but little more, his testimony had 
been borne in a life of singular purity and 
nothing farther was necessary. He had dwelt 
so long in the shadow of death that it had no 
terror to him. 

"He remarked in April preceding his death, 
on our way to Nashville, that he knew his end 
was near. He felt that his lungs were almost 
gone. "I can feel," said he, "the breathing 
surface diminishing constantly. I do not ex- 
press myself thus to my family, knowing it 
would distress them. " And he talked as calmly 
about dying as he would about a visit to see his 
friends. I was not with him at the supreme 
moment, but understood, he said but little more 
about dying than is here recorded. 

"In that sea of glass, which spreads out before 
the throne of God, an emblem of the Divine 
omniscience, his good deeds are mirrored for- 
ever. We think no other man has so profoundly 
impressed Methodist circles in Texas, and go 
where you will, his memory lingers as sweetest 
perfume in the homes of our people." 

He died November 12th, 1884. On the morn- 
ing following his death, memorial services were 
held in the Methodist Church at Waco, in which 
a number of prominent ministers took part, and 
eloquent tributes were paid to his memory by 
Rev. A. A. Allison, Dr. R. C. Burleson, and 



350 DR MOOD. 



Kev. M. H. Wells. His remains were conveyed 
to Georgetown under a suitable escort, and the 
final funeral ceremonies were conducted in the 
University Chapel in the afternoon of November 
14th. A number of visiting ministers assisted 
in these services. The funeral discourse was de- 
livered by Rev. J. H. McLean, D.D. His text 
was taken from Matt. 10—39: "He that loseth 
his life for my sake, shall find it." He. was 
most happy in the selection of his text, applying 
it to the life and labors of Dr. Mood, and speak- 
ing with peculiar power and effectiveness. The 
spacious chapel was crowded, the scene was one, 
the impressiveness and solemnity of which could 
not be surpassed; and there was not a dry eye 
in the large body of his students, as they filed 
past his bier to take a last look at their departed 
friend. His body was laid to rest in the College 
Campus, a few feet north of the Chapel, and as 
the light of a beautiful day was softening into 
twilight the last service was concluded. 

He leaves a wife, with five sons and four 
daughters, and the legacy of a highly honored 
name, a spotless character, and a well-spent life. 

It was his privilege to realize that the institu- 
tion which he had founded amid difficulties and 
discouragements, in weakness and in pain, had 
reached a point in its history "where it was not 
dependent upon the life of any one man," and 



THE CLOSE. 351 



no doubt, but that at times he was led to Pis- 
gah's heights where through the eye of faith he 
was permitted to behold the work of his hands 
established— the Canaan of his hopes — a blessing 
to the youth of coming generations. 

Shortly after his death, steps were taken by a 
number of his former students, looking to the 
erection of a suitable monument over his re- 
mains. At the following Commencement of the 
University, The Mood Monumental Association 
was organized; and plans were there inaugurated 
which have resulted in closing the contract for 
a massive granite monument that is to sentinel 
his last resting-place. The inscription which it 
will bear, and which is given on the following 
page, is from the pen of his friend and co- 
laborer, Rev. J. H. McLean, D.D. 



352 DR. MOOD. 



[Front or West Side.] 

Founder and First Kegent 

of 

South- Western University. 

Elected Kegent, Dec. 21, 1872. 

Entered upon his duties, Oct. 6, 1873. 

MOOD. 

[South Side.] 

In memory of our honored and beloved 
Eegent— Rev. F. A. Mood, D.D.,— a faithful 
counselor, an able minister and instructor, a 
model Christian and gentleman, a friend and 
benefactor of the youth. 

Affectionately inscribed by 

His Students. 
[North Side.] 

Baptized in infancy, professed religion and 
joined the Church in early youth. Licensed to 
exhort by the M. E. Church South, in 1848. 
Licensed to preach in 1849. Graduated from 
Charleston College, and entered the S. C. Con- 
ference in 1850. Elected President of Soule 
University and transferred to the Texas Con- 
ference in 1868. Delegate to the Ecumenical 
Conference in London, Eng., in 1881. 

[East Side.] 

Francis Asbury Mood. 

Born in Charleston, S. C, June 23, 1830. 
Died in Waco, Texas, Nov. 12, 1884. 
Aged 54 years, 4 months, and 19 days. 
u He that loseth his life for my sake shall 
find it." 



